Love Me Harder
by Winchesterfan11
Summary: Sam and Dean have battled their emotions for too long but a cross-country drive to the West Coast could be the last straw.. Set before Sam went to Stanford University, before Season 1. WARNING: contains Wincest! First Time, Angst, Flashbacks, Underage
1. The Tease

Chapter One

Sam bit his lip. His hands snaked down his body and adjusted the growing length in his jeans. This was pure torture. Dean was sat, his open shirt flailing in the hot summer breeze, hands gripping the steering wheel of the Impala. For years Sam had lusted after him but now seeing him like this, exposed flesh teasing him, it was almost impossible to hide his desire. Dean was singing along to some classic rock anthem on the radio unaware of his little brothers uncomfortable situation. They were headed to West, some kind of demonic cult had arisen along the West Coast, which meant a very long car ride in close conditions. John was already there and had called the boys to come along and help out. Dean was ecstatic over the chance to work with his Dad again, eager to please his old man. Prove himself. Sam on the other hand was dreading the long, drawn out journey, fearing his urges would get the better of him.

His mouth was dripping wet so Sam swallowed slow and hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in a prominent gulp. Dean turned casually, "You okay Sammy?" Sam startled.

"Yeah I'm fine.." He was now desperate to stop at the next gas station; fix the problem in his pants, "Dean when is the next stop, I, uh- I gotta go." Dean looked at Sam for a moment chuckling till his eyes dropped to the well defined shape his baby brother was trying to conceal. His own dick twitched with intrigue. His green eyes widened.

"Sure looks like you could use some relief Sammy." Sam followed his big brothers gaze down to his cock and blushed profusely. He turned himself away looking out the window in shame. Sweat trickled down his forehead. Sam wasn't like Dean. Dean was confident, accepted his body openly and flaunted it at every chance he got; Sam on the other hand was conservative and shy.

"Ah fuck off Dean, it's- I, just fu-... Leave me alone okay," Sam fought back. Face blazing red. He was cornered, no escape. Now shaking slightly. Dean was alarmed; Sam never reacted like this. However they had been on the road for a few days now and the heat was searing, was it any doubt his little Sammy was slightly frustrated. But for some reason it made Dean aroused, to capture his brother in this state, so desperate for attention.

"Sam it's okay, it happens to all of us," Dean joked. He rested one hand down on his knee, ever so slowly dragging his hand up and into his thick, inner thigh. Partly as a joke but partly to tease his brother; he wanted to see Sammy's reaction. Something shifted in the air. The heat intensified in the car. Sam watched from the corner of his eye breathing heavily. Dean trailed his fingers in circular motion on his leg sending tingles to his soft dick. Sam eyed intently, licked his bottom lip and swallowed. Deans heart jumped. Was he making Sam hard?

The image of Sam playing with his dick, pleasuring himself over his older brother caused Dean's cock to start pulsing. Could it be true? Dean secretly hoped it was. He flashed back to all those nights lying, pretending to sleep on the stiff motel beds hearing Sam moan softly, absorbing the sounds of pleasure and ecstasy. The whole time Dean desperate to turn around and watch. He hadn't dared move though, in case it frightened Sammy, in case his boy stopped making the sweet gasps. Dean had assumed Sam was dreaming of some hot chick. Maybe this hadn't been the case.

Dean kept up the teasing. His fingers journeyed up to his tight chest, over the ripples of muscle to his nipple which was hard. He grazed two fingers over his nipple, made sure Sam was watching and lightly pinched. Sam slowly closed his eyes. His long lashes fluttered. The corner of Deans mouth curved in a wicked smile.

Sam was trying to control his breathing but it was coming out in uncontrollable pants. The pressure between his legs was red hot. He was fighting back the urge to pull out his cock right there. But Dean had a tendency to play these twisted games for kicks and Sam was determined not to fall victim. He was always teasing. Messing around. What made it hard was that his brother was just so damn hot. His hands all over his body making Sam yearn for a touch. Dean then rested his head on his hand, leaning casually against the car window. His thumb moved up and traced his plump bottom lip, his lips parting exposing his tongue to Sam, which he flicked up to his top lip and dragged across ever so gradually. Sam turned away and mirrored with his own lips and tongue, whimpering.

Dean decided to cruelly reign it back a bit. He carefully buttoned his shirt back up and Sam had to choke back the mutters of disappointment.

"There's a stop coming up soon Sammy," Dean winked playfully.

Sam spluttered for a moment, "Thanks Dean..." Dean smiled at him. That big, cheesy grin that broke all the girls hearts.

"You never know Sammy, maybe some girl will be willing to give you head? Or maybe both of us? Together even? Now that would be fun," Dean chuckled. Sam held back a moan. Imagining his and Deans dicks touching together, rubbing together, being next to Dean as he came. Hearing the moans. So close. Close enough to touch, rub his hands up Dean's member. It was too much for Sam to handle.

"You're sick Dean," Sam humphed, rolling his eyes, trying to make it clear he wasn't interested. But he'd already given too much away.

Dean reached a hand over and gripped Sam's leg in a comforting gesture, "Not far now Sammy, eh?" Sam couldn't contain it anymore. Shivers from his brothers touch sent him over the edge. He dug his nails into his other leg. Held in the cries. Turned his face away, biting down hard on his lip to contain the quivering moan.

Dean didn't notice, he lightly rubbed Sam's strong thigh affectionately and then picked up a cassette and slipped it into the cassette player.

Sam thanked the heavens for the heavy base rock chords that blasted out the speakers, drowning out his whimpers. He could feel his dick spurting load after load into his boxers and with each pulse Sam rocked in his seat, raising his hips, swaying them back and forwards. He breathed out of his nose loudly, now clenching his teeth, shaking in ecstasy. The entire time Dean rocked out to his jam, completely oblivious to his little brother writhing and orgasming at his side.

The next few minutes of music helped soothe Sam into a calmer composure. His erection had ceased for now. Yet he had no doubt it would return.

Dean glanced over at Sam. Little brother was nice and relaxed. A wave of determination swept over Dean, he was set on making his Sammy squirm. There were plenty of miles before the West Coast. Plenty chances to find out for sure if Sam wanted him the way he wanted Sam.

* * *

><p>The Impala glided into the gas station and Dean killed the music. The sun was still beating down as sunset began, darkness creeping over the hills. Sam slipped out and briskly walked to the public bathroom, clicking the door close and collapsing against the sink. His nails dug into the porcelain as he deeply breathed. The mirror began to steam up with his warm breath. He flicked his eyes up and looked at himself. Cheeks ashen and radiating immense heat. His hazel eyes were dilated beyond belief. Sam's hands were shaking as he turned the cold tap. A stream of freezing water blasted into the basin. Sam plunged his hands into the swirl of water and splashed it up onto his face. He glanced down at his jeans, eyeing the wet spot. My god what was he thinking, letting himself get in such a state? He had managed to conceal it for so long. Disappointedly he unbuttoned his jeans and wiped away the cum.<p>

A rattling at the door startled Sam. He snapped his head around looking at the door.

"Come on Sammy let me in! I need to go Sam come on!"

It was Dean. Sam couldn't let his brother see him in this state.

"I'm busy Dean, you're just going to have to wait a minute" Sam continued to clean himself, more panicked and rushed now.

"Sam I'm going to fucking piss myself if you don't let me in!" Sam winced at Dean's cursing words; he loved it when his big brother got all rough and rugged like that. He dabbed his legs with a damp cloth. Cleaning up the last drops of cum when he heard a clicking noise coming from the door. Suddenly Dean was bursting into the bathroom, racing toward the urinal. Time slowed. Sam grabbed his jeans and tugged them up as quick as he could. Bringing them up to his waist and zipping them in an immediate, quick-fire reaction to Dean's intrusion.

"Fu- Dean! Did you just pick the lock!" Sam held his hands over his junk, as though he was exposed, arms guarding his body. Trying to keep some dignity. Dean stopped dead in his tracks and eyed Sam from boots to long hair. He noted the damp cloth in Sam's hand. The wet marks on Sam's jeans. His baby brother was cleaning himself up. Dean imagined Sam running a watery towel up his naked, bare body. Cleaning for him. Making himself pure. Droplets of water running down his chest and dripping down his thighs between his legs. Washing over his stomach and under his balls. Dean then thought of the inclusion of soap into his little fantasy. Suds trickling down Sammy's groin, bubbles popping away, revealing the one thing Dean yearned for.

Sam watched Dean, his big brothers green eyes picking his body to pieces, eating him up, "Dean?"

Dean snapped out of his day dream. He shook his head, laughed and walked over to the urinal. Sam's heart sank. He sighed frustrated and upset, turned on the hot water and washed his hands. Dean grinned, pawning over the image of Sam pulling up his trousers, re watching it like a film clip. Again. And again. Slowing it down in his head so he could devour the site of Sammy's bare thighs and groin. If only he had seen Sam's dick. The sight of that would have kept Dean pleased for weeks.

It was time to turn up the heat. Dean unbuttoned his jeans and brought his semi hard cock in his warm hand. Playfully rubbing it. If he carried on this game he couldn't go back. It would change the Winchester brothers relationship forever. But Dean couldn't help himself. He pushed out his hips so his length was more prominent as he peed hard into the urinal. Letting out an exaggerated moan to capture Sam's attention.

How could Sam not watch? He was almost forced to. His eyes drawn to Dean, like metal to a magnet, bulging as he saw what his brother was doing. Gazing intently at Dean's hand, how it massaged his long, thick cock. Fingers caressing over the loose skin. Trailing the viens. Once Dean had finished pissing he shook his cock, turning slightly, giving Sammy a show. His little brother gawped at the display. Dean licked his lip and stabbed his teeth into his bottom lip, biting hard enough to draw blood. Sam's lips parted. He gulped.

Sam hadn't even noticed how hot the water had become. Steam was rising up, swirling around Sam's face. The boiling temperature of the water assisted in intensifying the connection. Sam's eyes rolled back into his head for a moment, moaning as the scalding water burned his skin. Dean was mesmerised at how unfazed Sam was. The fiery passion and pleasure of watching Dean balanced out the pain of the water. Tears began to well in Sam's eyes but he didn't dare move, frightened he would break the spell between him and Dean.

Dean was starting to get concerned. His Sammy was hurting. His hands red raw. When a tear ran down Sam's cheek Dean jumped up. Instinct overpowered him and he threw his hand to the tap, turning the water off and gripping Sam's blazing hands, cupping them. Pulling Sam close.

"Sam what were you thinking?!" Fear flashed across his face. Sam whimpered. They spent what felt like an hour, just staring into each other. Searching for what to say. Sam looked down overwhelmed with disgust. Dean placed a hand on his baby brothers chin, lifting his head up again and reassuring him with a loving gaze. He brought Sam's hands up to his face and rubbed them against his cheek. Sam let the tears fall. Dean puckered his lips and softly kissed the burnt fingers of his dear Sammy. Caring for him. Like he had for years. Like all those times he put plasters on Sam's grazed knees, soothed his nightmares away, sang him to sleep. Sam was Dean's everything. Only now had it become so heartbreakingly clear.

"It's okay Sammy," Dean patted Sam's head, relaxed and at ease.

"Dean..." Sam murmured, lifting his face. Almost tasting Dean, lips nearly touching. Millimetres of space between them. Dean's breath tangling with Sam's own panting breaths. Moving closer. In a moment his ears pricked. The sound of footsteps. Sam pushed himself away from Dean, running a hand through his hair, stiffening up again. Dean in his haste to help Sam had left his jeans open and his dick out. Panicked he buttoned up again. He lingered a look at Sam. The moment had almost happened. Dean raised an eyebrow, inviting Sam back to his touch. But his baby brother shook his head and stormed out of the bathroom in shame.


	2. Fighting and Friction

Chapter Two

They drove in silence, darkness swallowing the road as night time arrived. Sam was numb, resting his head against the window watching the road. Contemplating what to say. Confused by all these actions. What he wanted. What Dean wanted. It was all a big mess. Like a million jigsaw pieces, none of them fitting right, nothing coming together. He nearly kissed Dean. Or had Dean been trying to kiss him? Had it all been a joke at Sam's expense? He rubbed his hands. The welting pain from the boiling water had subsided slightly and he kept them pressed against the window, cooling by the night. Every so often he would glance over at Dean yet it only hurt him more. Hurt even more than his sore hands. Deep down he knew nothing could happen. Dean was his older brother. Always there for him. He couldn't lose that love. That bond. He was terrified Dean wouldn't look at him in the same way now. A boundary had been crossed. Sam begged and prayed to God that they could make it back from this.

Dean kept his eyes focused on the road ahead. Heart thumping. Blood racing. His eyes were red. He was straining to hold back the tears. Determination kicked in, he wouldn't let Sam see him cry. Fuck that. He gritted his teeth. Face contorting with anger and frustration. He wanted Sam so badly. Had done for years. He'd kept the feelings to himself, despised himself for thinking such sinful, disgusting thoughts. Yet just thinking about his baby boy, his Sammy, their bodies entwined. It made Dean want to close his eyes and never open them again, not if it meant leaving behind the clear visions of Sam.

He had dreamt about it before: the first time they would kiss. His hands searching across Sammy's body. Pressing against his baby brother, feeling the hardness of his groin. Lips locking together. Saliva mixing. Teeth bumping in the passionate frenzy. Working his tongue in and out of Sammy's mouth until he coaxed out a moan. Now they couldn't even look at each other. He'd scared Sam away.

"Sam.." Dean's voice broke. Sam held back the tears. Hearing Dean sound so broken and hurt. Vulnerability slipping off his tongue as he spoke, "Back there Sam, in the bathroom..."

Sam scrunched up his face, holding in the pain, "You shouldn't have done that Dean! Why did you do that!"

Dean was taken aback, "Me? Sam it was you! I was trying to help! You were scalding yourself!" His heart was in his mouth. He had wanted to stay calm and be gentle but his words came out sharp and snappy.

"You teased me Dean! You never know when to fucking stop! You push and push Dean!" Dean's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"It was a joke!"

"It wasn't a joke! It was twisted! Your twisted!" Sam coughed and choked. His throat swollen.

"I'm not the one gagging for cock!" The words were out before he could stop them, tumbling out of his mouth. Sam's reaction was instant. He clenched a fist and sent it smacking into Dean's face, falling back into his seat in floods of tears. Dean swerved the car, rolling into the side of the road, slowing amongst some trees. Blood trickled from his broken lip. His own tears welling up. Hand nursing his mouth. Devastated that his Sammy had hit him. Sam was curled up in a ball wailing. Dean wanted to hurt Sam just as bad. He raised his fist, ready to blow into Sam. Blood pulsing. Eyes wide. His fist came thumping down.

At the last second Dean's fist crumpled away. He couldn't do it. Couldn't bring himself to strike Sammy. He would only hurt him with words. Wouldn't dare touch him. No one could touch him. He wasn't his Dad.

"Maybe if you weren't so fucking desperate for it Sam! You were pretty much asking for it! Like a little whore!" Dean's voice was gruff; the softness ripped away. Driven by hurt and rejection, "You wanted my dick Sam! No denying-"

"Fuck you Dean! I hate you!"

Dean grabbed Sam by the shoulders, pulling him round. Glaring right into his eyes.

"Don't you ever say that!" Dean roared.

"It's true! I hate you! I HATE you!" Sam screamed. Dean's nails dug into Sam's skin. They were both bawling their eyes out. Fuelled by fury Dean shook Sam.

"Shut up! We are family!" He took his hands and snatched Sam's head. Making their noses touch.

"Family? What family Dean? We haven't been a family in a long time! When was the last time we saw Dad? Huh?" Sam growled, "He only calls us when he wants something. When he needs something from us. And your more than willing to drop fucking everything for him!"

"That's what you do for family Sam! We are brothers, we need to stick together! Dad needs us!"

"Brothers! Ha!," Sam sarcastically laughed, throwing his head back, "We aren't normal brothers Dean! Normal brothers don't do what we do! Normal brothers don't tease each other like we just did!"

"Sam enough!" Dean flung his hand onto Sam's wrist.

"Don't touch me!" Sam writhed and wriggled, trying to get away, "Get off me! I hate you!" Dean couldn't take it. The words cut him like a knife. Those weren't the words he wanted to hear. Not from Sam. It wasn't true.

"No! You love me! We love each other!"

Sam pushed off Dean, hands scrambling for a way out, crying his words, "I hate you!"

Dean plunged into Sam, their mouths connecting, muffling Sam's cries. Sam opened his mouth to gasp and Dean dove his tongue in deep, swirling around his brothers mouth. Tasting him. Embracing him. Sam tried to fight it but the shock stunned him still. He could taste the metallic tang of blood that trickled from his brothers lip. Guilt stricken he gently suckled on the bruised area of his brothers mouth. Dean squeezed his eyes, absorbing the pleasure and ignoring the sting. Sam closed his eyes and fell into Dean's strong arms. Opening his mouth to him. Their tongues met. Lapped at each other. Entwining. Dean kissed Sam's cheeks, kissing away the tears. He brought his hand up to Sam's head, pulled him nearer and buried his teeth into Sam's neck. Sam cried out, squirming and convulsing in satisfaction. Relishing in the sounds his Sammy was making Dean slipped his free hand down and massaged his erection through his tight jeans.

Once they finally broke free of the passionate kiss Sam was radiating lust. For a moment the brothers just admired each other, soaking in one another's faces, a mixture of delight and confusion. Before Sam was overcome with shyness Dean yanked his brother toward his lap. Sam willingly moved. Lifting his leg over and lowering himself down on top of Dean. Dragging his hands down Dean's shirt. Fingers slipping between the fabric, brushing against the flesh.

"Dean..." Sam whispered. His heart was battering against his rib cage. Head spinning.

Dean brushed Sam's long hair out of his face, caressing his cheek, "Sam I want this."

Sam's head sunk low. A tear fell onto Dean's chest, "I'm sorry... About before. About everything. I didn't- uh, I.. Um... I want this too, I just... I don't know..." Dean nuzzled into Sam.

"Sammy it's okay. We're okay now." Dean loosened up the buttons on his shirt. Taking it off his shoulders and throwing it on the back seat. Sam inhaled the musk. Dean took Sam's hands and guided them around his torso, making Sam grip his pecs. His eyes were heavy, full of trust and longing. He had waited years for this. Finally Dean Winchester had his little brother exactly where he wanted him. Sam took his time, enjoying his hands on Dean. Intimately examining every freckle and scar on his body. Exploring him. Mapping out what points tickled Dean. Painstakingly stroking and stimulating him, Dean tossing in approval.

Dean then lifted Sam's fitted t-shirt off his head and tossed it aside. Leaning in he licked at Sam's chest. Felt Sam shiver. His tongue traced the lines of muscle on his fit baby brother. Sam was stronger than he looked. Like a kitten Dean nipped and pecked at Sam's nipple. He crept his hands round and onto Sam's back. Sam's head flew back, euphoria engulfing him as Dean nails scored into him, leaving dark red lines tattooed into his sensitive skin. Dean lifted his hands off Sam for a moment. A small part of him fearing he had dug too deep.

"Don't stop Dean..." Sam moaned, forcing Dean's hands to return to their position on his back.

Sam shifted forward, bringing his lip to Dean's earlobe, "Do it harder..." He whispered. Dean obeyed. Roughly marking Sam. Sam loved it. He could _really_ feel Dean. Feel how real this all was. It wasn't just another fantasy. Dean was here with him. Holding him. Needing him. Like an animal Sam growled. His wild cries propelling Dean's urges to the max. He seized Sam and their lips smashed together. Bodies grinding against each other, sweaty and dirty. Sam bit Dean's sore lip, swallowing the mix of bloody saliva. Dean groaned, pulling away slightly panting.

Sam frowned, "Too sore?" Dean smiled, wiping the smudge of blood away.

"No Sammy, s'good," his hand wormed down and started unzipping Sam's jeans, till the zip snagged. Dean grunted in exasperation.

"Get them off..Now" Sam nodded, clambered off Dean. Turned on the spot and sat down on Dean's lap. Feeling the considerable tent in Dean's jeans. Dean played with Sam's neck and behind his ears as he kicked his boots off, letting them thump on the car floor. He stopped. Just a second of doubt. Was this right? Dean's comforting peck on his neck was all the answer he needed. Shifting his weight, he shimmied the jeans down. Sitting down against Dean in thin, black, skin-tight boxers. Dean thumbed the waistband of the boxers. Drawing them down enough that he could place a hand onto Sam's ass cheek. Massaging and toying with the handful of flesh. His other hand smoothing round and down Sam's chest. The positioning was awkward, Sam couldn't get his hand down to undo Dean's jeans.

Dean sensed Sam's aggravation and cocked his head, "Back seat?" Sam grinned.

"You read my mind." Quickly they climbed over into the back seat, Sam moving first and Dean collapsing beside him. The two of them sinking into the leather seat. Sam pushed Dean onto his back and shuffled down so his head met with Dean's thumping cock. Shaking he unbuttoned Dean's jeans. Breathing deep before burying his hand into his brothers boxers, touching Dean's long, thick dick for the first time. The skin was smooth, like velvet. It was incredibly warm. He pumped Dean's length a few times. Hand adjusting to the size and feel. This was the first erection he had ever seen or touched apart from his own. Sam swiped his thumb around the head, tentatively pushing into the slit. Pre-cum dribbled out. Sam brought the wet finger to his lip and made a big show of sucking up the slippery substance. He kept the salty, mineral taste in him as long as he could. Spreading it around the inside of his mouth with his tongue. He was tasting pure Dean Winchester.

Dean mumbled keenly. He basked in the feeling of Sam groping him. It was unimaginable luxury. Watching the boy he raised fondle him. Sam loosened his jaw, licked his lips, proceeding to move in. Dean held Sam's head at bay. Sam peered up nervous and confused. Hazel eyes searching for permission.

"Sammy you don't have to do that," Dean explained, soothing Sam's nerves.

Sam kissed Dean's hip bone, looking up at him, "But I want to..."

_To be continued..._


	3. The Back Of The Impala

Chapter Three

The night was silent apart from a cool breeze which swept over the area, causing leaves to lightly fall onto the hidden car nestled between the trees at the side of the road. Inside the steamy Impala Sam's heart was beating like a rabbit. The darkness engulfed his vision but the moon cast a light that fell across Dean's face and body, highlighting his chiselled features. The curves of his torso. The sharp line of his jaw. His eyes blaring green. Pupils dilated. The vibes of eagerness and devotion trickling through his soul. There was a blazing desire and hunger for love boiling inside of Sam. He needed this beautiful body. Attentively he interlocked his fingers in Dean's jeans and tugged them down.

Sam moistened his lips and tenderly took Dean's cock into his mouth, swallowing all the way down. Dean's length cramming into his throat. He could feel the pulsating rod slide against the smooth walls of his mouth. Sam wanted to take it all. Devour his brother. But once Dean was pressed against the back of his throat Sam couldn't hold it any longer. He choked and withdrew embarrassed.

"You don't have to deepthroat Sammy, try using your tongue maybe? Just feeling your mouth on me is enough," Dean's eyes glistened as he winked. Sam nodded and went down on Dean again. This time he took the time to play with the erection, taking note of what Dean said he licked up and down the shaft. Tongue following the lines of veins. Sam gripped the base of the penis and softly massaged the head, suckling on it like a teat, tongue-fucking the slit leisurely. Dean moaned loudly, taking a fistful of Sams hair. The soft, apple scent of Sammy's locks woven in his fingers.

"Feels so good Sammy," Dean mumbled, thrusting into Sam's mouth. Sam's eyes lit up whenever Dean moaned. Enjoying pleasing his brother. Digging his nails in Dean's thigh as he darted Dean in and out of his mouth, causing Dean to squirm gratifyingly. Now Sam was feeling brave, he wanted to make his older brother proud.

He pulled off, holding Dean's cock in a tight grip, "I want you to go deeper Dean... Please fuck my mouth." Sam lathered up Dean's balls with spit, fondling them ever so gently and lapped his tongue down and around them. He then pecked at Dean's cock. Dean quivered, hearing little Sammy talk dirty brought him closer to coming. He put his hands on Sams head, holding him still and started to slam into Sam's comforting mouth. Sams tongue went flat allowing Dean to push to the back of his throat. Sam contained his urge to gag, instead he relaxed and let his mouth cushion the cock. Dean moved at a faster pace and Sam synchronised so they were moving in the same glorious rhythm. Sam tried to steady himself and suppress the uncontrollable need to swirl his tongue around his brother. He welcomed each pound with a low grunt and it seemingly propelled Dean's energy. Sam loved being able to do this to his brother. The throbbing dick stretching his lips, stuffing his mouth completely. The pace changed becoming a deluge of crazed humps. Sam knew Dean would erupt any second.

Dean lunged one last time, screaming as he shot right down Sams throat, "Sammy!" Furious tremors overtook his body. The intoxicating sensation overwhelmed him, plunging him into an exponential orgasm. His legs fell wider apart in surrender to Sam. Sam pulled back a bit so he could taste the mineral mix and some cum spurted onto his tongue. He grinned, his mouth overflowing with Dean's seed. Dean tried to pull out but Sam stopped him, he wanted to hold Dean in his mouth till he was limp. Dean muttered Sam's name peacefully, lying his head back and closing his eyes.

"Sam that was awesome," Dean patted Sam's head, full of admiration and love. Once Dean was soft Sam shifted up and rested his head against Dean's chest, running his hands in circles on his belly. Dean was still sensitive after his orgasm and the tingles of Sams long fingers on his abdomen mustered a hushed gasp.

"Dean I want to..." Sam paused, breathing nervously.

Dean moved a hair from his face, "What is it Sammy?"

"I want to have sex with you Dean..." Dean's dick almost went hard straight away just thinking of putting his full length into Sams perfect ass. Being able to fuck Sam had been Dean's darkest fantasy; feeling himself inside his brother, pounding him harder. Making them both explode on each other. Sam was smiling innocently. Dean knew Sam was a virgin and it made him beam to know that Sam wanted him to take his virginity. Sam wouldn't want anyone but Dean.

"Sam I want to make it special for you, for your... Your first time. Not here. Somewhere nice. A fancy motel maybe? Or a Bed and Breakfast?" Sam sat up and looked at Dean blushing deep red.

"Dean I don't need anything special, I just need you. Please Dean I want it so bad," Sam brushed his hand on his rock hard cock that pushed against the fabric of his boxers. There was a damp mark where he had leaked cum before. Dean gulped. If Sam started teasing him he wouldn't be able to stop himself. However hard he was determined to make Sams first time as memorable as possible, he knew he couldn't control the craving for long.

The young Winchester boy adjusted himself, moving the protruding bulge around in his underwear till he was comfortable. Dean eyed him tremendously turned on. Sam looked up from under the mask of hair aware of the thirst behind Dean's eyes. Persistently Sam kneaded his swollen member into Dean's toned thigh. Dean held in his breath. Franticly trying to deter himself from getting stimulated but Sam was relentless. However he continued an onslaught of grinding and humping on Dean's leg and it wasn't long before Dean's dick was throbbing. Sam clapped his hands gleefully. His insistence had paid off.

"Dean will you rip my boxers off?"

Dean contemplated the question. This was going to be more intimate and powerful than any sexual experience he had ever been involved in. He was breaking at the seams with doubt. Sammy was, after all, still his little brother. He was meant to guard and protect him. Not indulge in flirting and oral sex. Yet whatever confliction his head was undergoing his body didn't comply. Sam tired of waiting for Deans response and temptingly tore the boxers off himself in an act of eroticism. Dean went into a sudden outburst. Scooping Sam into his arms and mushing their lips together. He skimmed his fingers along the curve of Sam's butt. He was so enthralled by Sam he would have fucked him dry, right at the moment, if it weren't for the piercing ring of sirens that bulldozed the moment.

Dean flung Sam into the car door and snatched at his clothes, fumbling like a teenager to get his jeans up. His heart was in his hand. Sick churning in his stomach. He could picture the cop rattling his fist on the car window demanding the boys step out, half dressed and flustered. Red and blue lights broke the darkness and through the foliage Dean caught a glimpse of a police car shooting down the highway, zooming past the hidden Impala toward a distress call. He let out long sigh of relief and tumbled back into the seat, clothes hanging off him.

"That was close huh Sam," Dean smirked. Sam was silent. Naked and exposed, lying in a heap against the door. Blood trickled down his forehead from a small gash. Big tears dropped of his chin. The door handle was smeared in Sam's blood. His eyes crossed over his shivering brother and a pang of pain hit Dean in the chest simultaneously.

"Oh fuck! Sammy!" Dean launched himself over to cradle Sam but Sam shoved him away.

"Get off Dean," Sam searched for his t-shirt on the floor and brought it up against the wound. The blood imprinted on the fabric instantly.

"Sam I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I swear!" Dean stroked Sams arm. He'd never meant to hurt Sam, never. Now he felt like he'd let everyone down. The one person he was meant to protect, vowed to keep safe, and he'd hurt him.

"You've had sex a million times in the car! Hell, in much more exposed places than this Dean! You just didn't want anyone catching you with me, isn't that right?" Sam retaliated. Dean shook his head in disbelief. Unfortunately there was some truth to what Sam said though he would never admit it. Dean didn't want to have a policeman finding him in that state with another man. It had never happened to him before. He didn't want to imagine the disgusted reaction. The word circulating in the police station about the two fags found getting busy at the side of the road. Just thinking about it made Dean clench his fists in rage. But he knew this wasn't the same situation. This involved Sammy.

"Sam... I-"

"No Dean don't say anything, your ashamed of me, I know you are. Your ashamed of what we did. Let's just forget about it okay. Just drive please I need to sleep this headache off," Sam started dressing again. He didn't mean a single word of what he was saying. He never wanted to stop touching and loving Dean. He wanted to feel Dean's arms around him for every moment of his life. Wake up to the leathery, whiskey aroma that floated off his brother. But he was so hurt and whenever he was hurt he lashed out emotionally.

"Sam I'm not asha-"

Sam shot Dean a pained, teary look, "Just drive Dean."

Dean's face fell low. He slipped out of the back seat door opening himself to the chill of the late night and moved to the drivers seat. Sam kept to the backseat, pulling on a thick jumper he kept in the back, watching the moon as Dean reversed back onto the highway and took off down the road.

* * *

><p>A bright neon sign tattooed the sky, colourful reflections bouncing off the black sheen of the Impala that parked in the space beneath the sign. Dean had thought it best the brothers rest up at the closest motel. Sams head was going to hurt the next day so he required rest and Dean needed to apply ice to his lip, which he'd forgotten about until the pain kicked in a few miles back.<p>

Sam was half asleep on the back seat of the car when Dean returned rattling some room keys in his face.

"Come on Sam, I sorted us a room," Dean chirped, trying to stay positive in light of what had just happened.

Sam rolled out the car and slung a duffel bag over his shoulder, following Dean up the stairs to their room at the far west side of the motel. The room was small; a kitchenette to the left as they entered with a little table and two chairs, ahead of them was a cheap double bed with a stack of towels sitting only the end. Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean when he saw they would be sharing.

"Sorry Sam, it was the best they could do on short notice. We've done it before.." His voice trailed off as Sam dumped his bag, snatched a towel and headed to the bathroom.

The hum of the white bathroom light drowned out Dean's anxious shuffling on the other side of the door. Sam leant against the sink irritated. He filled the basin and dipped the towel in, cleaning up his cut. Gritting his teeth at the sting. Muttering angrily to himself about Dean.

Dean was fidgeting with the bed sheets when Sam emerged at last. He lifted the ice pack from his lip and put it back in the freezer before clambering into bed next to Sam. They were both in nothing but sweatpants. Dean cut the lights and embraced the darkness, thankful he didn't have to look at Sams hurt expression any longer. It had tortured him the entire drive here. Sam shifted his weight and snuggled his back into Dean who was radiating heat. The closeness seemed to thaw Sam's resentment rapidly.

"Dean," Sam meekly whispered, "Will you hold me?" Dean turned and weaved his arm over Sams hip and rested it in the bend of his stomach. Pressing his body against Sams back. His lips teased at Sams ear.

"I love you Sammy, I'm sorry."

Sam nuzzled his head back into Dean's neck, "I love you too Dean."


	4. Hot Showers, Cold Truths

Chapter 4

Sam stirred awake in the early hours of the morning. A haze drifted over the valley, the motel appearing as a ship upon a misty lake. Sam could see the fog through the partly opened curtains. He buried himself into the cozy sheets, defying the cold outside. The smell of Dean surrounding him. The aroma represented safety to Sam; reminded him of nights sharing beers at the end of a pier, days travelling in the Impala with Dean belting out his favourite songs, evenings together watching the sun set as they settled in a motel. Sam smiled delightfully. He batted his eyelashes watching Dean snoozing blissfully. Sam caressed his brothers warm cheek, resting his head on his pillow and watched him. He cherished Dean openly. Always had, always would.

Sleepily Sam rubbed his fingers on his temple where he received the gash last night. It still hurt to touch but Sam was well aware, after sleeping away his anger, that he had hurt Dean in exactly the same way. There was still a lot of issues the brothers needed to discuss. For now though Sam just wanted to snuggle up in Dean's embrace, like a dog devoted to his owner. He lay down on Dean, brushing his lips on his chest.

Dean roused to the awareness of movement on his skin. His eyes capturing Sam in a gaze, lulling him with the enchanting, green band of his iris. He rocked Sam with his tightened hold. Soothing him with a slow, melodic rendition of the Meatloaf song 'I Would Do Anything For Love'. The tune rolled off Dean's tongue and Sam soaked in the chime, recognised the song and hummed along with Dean.

Once the song was through Dean brought himself up and rested his head against his hand, "Morning Sammy."

Sam probed him with a long finger teasingly, "You should quit calling me Sammy, Dean. I'm not that kid anymore."

Dean disagreed, "You will always be my Sammy."

They didn't speak for a while. Just lazed against one another's bodies, their hands glided around each other. This was all Dean needed in his life. He would get up happy, if every morning for the rest of eternity was an exact duplicate of this very morning. Waking up and Sammy being the first thing his eyes saw. Sam was the light to his shade. Like a glove, Sam fitted into Dean perfectly. They wore each other with pride. Dean wanted to be Sam's everything.

"We should get some breakfast sweet cheeks," Dean stretched.

"I can think of something I would like to eat..." Sam straddled Dean, nudging him back into the mattress.

"Woah Sammy, hold on a minute," Dean laughed loudly, "Why don't we shower first? Huh?" Sam raised his eyebrow at the suggestion and then smiled mischievously.

Dean slid out of the sheets and strode to the bathroom door, cocking his head back, "You coming then?"

* * *

><p>Dean turned the hot water to full blast and watched as a jet of water shot out of the shower head. Growing up on the road he had learned to appreciate a shower whenever he had the chance to get one and in turn he'd developed a love for having his showers piping hot. It was part of the reason he had been so mystified by Sam when he had kept his hands in the boiling water. Seeing Sam getting redder and more flustered sparked something in Dean.<p>

Casually Sam started to pull down his sweats till a hand slapped across and stopped him. Dean had two towels bundles under his arm and was licking his lips. Ready to devour.

"Let me do it Sam."

Sam squirmed on the spot and gulped. Dean dropped the towels beside him as he fell to his knees. The spark between them rekindled from last night and Sam was prepared to be ignited yet again. His mouth quivered, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead in anticipation. Dean manoeuvred his hands onto Sams lean waist and gripped onto his brothers sweatpants. Inch by inch he lowered the fabric off Sams body. Soaking in the sight of the young mans naked flesh in the morning light. He greedily nibbled at Sam's newly exposed thighs, taunting him. Sam's dick swelled with excitement yet Dean strayed away from touching it. He eagerly awaited Dean's hands and mouth all over his cock. Desperate to feel his brother playing with all the sensitive parts that made him moan.

The sweatpants hit the floor and Sam stepped out of them presenting himself to Dean. Slicking up his tongue, Dean strolled his pink lips along Sam's inner thigh, lingering close to Sam's thumping cock.

"Please Dean," Sam begged, thrashing his head. His soul pleading, _needing_ Dean to feast on his body.

Dean got to his feet and came face to face with Sam, "All in good time Sammy." Dean stepped into the shower and pulled Sam in with him. Searing jets of water slashed down on their skin. Dean faced away from the shower head letting the water stab his back and run over his shoulders, spray firing up and landing over Sam. He cupped Sams face with his big hands, drawing him in for a kiss. Sams lips lingered on Dean's. His tongue swiped across Dean's full lips. Absorbing the flavour. Sam opened his mouth and sunk his teeth teasingly into Dean's bottom lip, tugging at the soft, pink flesh. Dean's jaw dropped and he moaned, slipping forward slightly.

Sam steadied his brother chuckling, placing his hand onto Dean's defined chest, nails slightly clawing into the skin. In one swift motion Sam dropped to his knees and plunged at Dean's semi-erect rod. His tongue animating the dick, making it twitch. He lapped at the salty, pre-cum liquid. Pledging himself to his brother's length. Sam controlled the tempo, sucking in and out, again and again. The vibes of extraordinary delight thudded into Dean, coming through him like quakes. Making his knees buckle. He was at Sams mercy and he could feel himself enlarging inside Sam's mouth. Water sprinkled onto Sam's mop of hair and he gazed up, the droplets glistening as they settled on his blushing cheeks. The pearls of water cascading between his legs to the heat in the centre.

"Sam..." Dean's voice was gruff. He reached for the apple-scented shampoo and poured some of the silky cream into his hand. He let his fingers delve into Sam's head, lathering his thick mane and massaging his brothers scalp. Sam writhed beneath him. Almost purring at Dean's contact. He continued to work on Dean's cock while Dean played with his hair. The lush, juicy rod sliding in and out of Sam's eager mouth.

Shampoo suds slicked up Dean's fingers as he dragged them through his baby siblings tangled hair. He was beginning to get more and more aroused. Holding Sams head firmly in place, preparing to fuck his throat. Ever so subtly Sam started to tip his head back, giving his brother the access he needed. Without hesitation Dean ravaged away. Forcing himself further than he had ever gone. Sam blinked back the tears. He let Dean destroy his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks to compensate for Dean's enormous dick. Heart fluttering because he was finally the one making Dean moan. After years of fantasising. Yet when he felt his older brother building to a heavenly climax Sam weaselled his body out of Dean's grip. Dean swore in frustration.

"Sam please I'm so close," Dean whined. Sam rose up. Seductively he placed a finger on his brothers lips.

"Like _you_ said Dean, all in good time..." He smirked.

Dean growled. Charged up with excruciating craving he raided in on Sammy. Chucking him into the wall with a thud, shampoo splattering down the tiles. Sam's eyes went wide. Dean initiated an onslaught of grinding and wet, desperate kisses. Their soaked, slippery bodies mashing together, hands swimming across their skin. The shower water torrented over them, washing Sam's satiny shampoo off his head and down his body. Sleeking up his skin as he rocked into his brother. Dean curved his hands round and grappled Sammy's ass. His fingers were still lubricated from the shampoo and he let one finger slip between the cheeks and tease the pink ring of muscle. Sam shuddered, lips parting and moaned. Dean swirled his finger in circles, watching Sam's heightened thirst. Tongue hanging out, demanding more. Dean enticed the hole, captivating his Sammy as he broke through the first barrier and the tip of his finger entered. Sam's body went rigid, lifting himself up on his toes.

"It's okay Sam, relax, I won't hurt you.." Dean whispered, nestling into Sam's neck. Sam surrendered his body, sinking back down, jolting Dean further into him. Sam was incredibly tight and Dean had to strangle and tame the fierce passion inside him that wanted to fuck Sam and feel the pressure of his brothers untouched hole consuming his cock. Agonising as it was he wanted to wait before taking Sam's virginity. Instead he thrust his whole finger inside his brother.

Sam squirmed. Dean was rubbing his finger against a delicate spot within him, causing Sam to scream.

"Cum for me Sammy!"

Sam strained, bobbing up and down on Dean's finger, riding the sublime orgasm to the next level. He lifted himself up and plunged down again onto the teasing finger. Harder and harder each time. Bucking when the finger probed his prostate. Sam felt white, hot lust clench his body. Nursing out a dazzling burst of burning, raving delirium. He shot his load into Dean's thigh and chest, the slippery substance sliding down his brothers skin. Before it hit the floor and was drained away Dean scooped it up. Making eye contact with Sam he lifted the cum-dunked fingers and snaked them into his mouth. Gulping down the fluid. Eyes rolling back some of the salty blend on his lips, he then kissed Sam. Forcing Sam to taste himself.

Sam was worn out completely, he nearly fainted into his brother. He felt as though all his blood had just rushed out him. His mouth was dry and now filled with the mineral flavour of his own semen. Dean flipped Sam round before he could think and pressed Sam's face into the white tiles. Maybe this would be the day Dean fucked him. Sams heart welled with hopefulness. Yet after a moment he heard Dean pumping his meat behind him, massaging his butt with his free hand.

"Dean why don't you just fuck me?" Sam said disappointedly. Dean pressed up against Sam, his hard cock lying in the crevasse of Sams ass. Sam gulped.

"I want to Sammy, I want to so bad," he bit at Sams ear, "But I want it to be special. Got to wait for it, okay Sammy? I promise we will soon." Dean worked his dick, bending Sam over a bit more so he could get an eyeful of his hole. God the things he wanted to do. He was already picturing it. The water was still firing down, it bounced off Sam's protruding ass. Dean kept pumping himself, fucking his hand.

When he was close he leaned in and taunted Sam, "Gonna cum all over you Sam," thumping his length harder, "You want my cum all over you, eh Sammy?"

"Yes Dean..." Sams voice was gravelly his own cock hard again.

"Just wait till I'm fucking you!"

"Dean, cum for me!" Both of their cocks now pulsing.

"Sam I want you, I fucking love you so much!"

"Then show me, cum Dean, cum for me!"

Dean thrusted in his grip, choking his dick, trembling, "Ugh Sammy!" With a last cry he exploded over Sam's back and ass. The drops of his brothers warm seed hitting his body spiralled Sam into another orgasm. He shot another small load against the tiles. The pair of them panting and tumbling to the floor, lying awkwardly in the small shower, out of breath as the piping hot flow of water washed the stank of cum off their bodies. Sam whispered affectionately, "I love you Dean."

They both jumped at the sound of a mobile phone ringing in the room next door. Dean recognised the ring tone instantly. It was Dad. The brothers had been completely sidetracked, living in a bubble. Hearing the phone brought everything crashing down. The reality of what they had been doing. Sam searched Dean's face for a reaction as the ringing stopped. Dean was pale. Thinking of the disgust and disgrace John would harbour if he knew. It brought sick into his mouth. Dean scrambled up and raced out the shower, throwing up in the toilet.

Sam's joy and happiness dissipated into a million pieces in an instant. All of his dreams had come true and now they were like sand sliding between his fingers. It hit him that no matter how much he wanted Dean, no matter how much he loved him, he could never truly be with his brother.

Dean got up and flushed the toilet. He looked down at Sam, his brother hugging his legs on the shower floor completely vulnerable. Dean had let everyone down. His Dad. His Mother. Sam. Himself. Heartbroken, he snatched a towel and hastily went into the bedroom closing the bathroom door behind him. He couldn't bare to look at Sam any more. He'd destroyed his brothers innocence. Taken advantage. Now he couldn't forgive himself.

Tears rolled down Sam's face. He was alone, the sound of the water drowning out the silence. He leant his head against the shower wall and sobbed.

_To be continued..._


	5. It Get's Easier

Chapter 5

Eerie silence suffocated the air inside the car. The pungent smell of musky sweat and leather jacket careened into Sam's nostrils. He had been teary since they left the motel, ignoring Dean and slipping into the Impala to continue on the road. Now the inviting smell of Dean's clothes and body hit him like a bullet through his damaged heart. The past hour had been insufferable agony. Sam remaining in a blank daze watching the green scenery fly by the window. Dean desperate to talk but never having the courage to say what he felt.

Sam twirled his hair around his fingers, admiring the beautiful valley displayed before him, trying to focus on anything other than his brother. The sun was high in the sky and there wasn't a cloud in site so rays of hot sunlight danced on the tree tops. Surprisingly the summer had been long and full of pleasant weather; only now the hints of autumn appearing in the form of golden, browning leaves. Sam gripped onto his soft locks mesmerised by the outside, remembering treks he, Dean and Uncle Bobby would take into the woods when they were younger. Yet when he picked up on the apple scent of his silky hair his lip shook. Devastation overwhelming him again.

"He hates me... God, he hates what we did..." Sam thought to himself. He blamed himself. For years he had suppressed the feelings he harboured for Dean. His lust had now tainted their relationship forever. It hurt so much. Like a swelling pain, growing and growing with each harsh breath. Sam wanted to dissolve into the car seats. He saw and felt Dean all around. Seeing him in the reflection of the car window. Smelling his manly aroma. Hearing his raspy breathing as he gripped the steering wheel. Every element of Dean Winchester carved a deeper gut-wrenching hole in Sams heart.

Dean had kept focused on the journey. Blocking out Sam. His eyes were sore from straining so hard. But he knew if he glanced at Sam, even for a millisecond, he would crumple into a mess.

With an obvious shake in his voice Sam spoke at last, "Dean... Please don't ignore me." Saying his brothers name out loud cut deep into Sam, he couldn't stop the flow of tears and within seconds he was breaking down. Trying to stifle his tears in his sleeve.

Dean tore in two. His eyes watering up so much he couldn't concentrate on driving and had to skid in onto the dirt at the side of the road. A cloud of dust engulfed the car at the sudden stop. Dean leant forward and rested his head on the steering wheel, tears slipping down between his legs. The wheel was warm where his sweaty hands had held so tight.

"I know you hate me right now but we can just forget about it Dean," Sam choked, "Let's just forget about it please. Just don't ignore me anymore. Anything but that. I can't take it."

Dean flung up, his hands jumpy, bloodshot eyes blasting into Sam, "Hate you! How could I hate you Sam! I hate myself! I did this to you!"

Accepting defeat, Dean's eyes surveyed Sam. His brother looked exhausted, bags exposed under his eyes. So much pain and anguish submerged in his hazel gaze. Sam's cheeks were flushed, streams where tears had been running defined in the sunshine. Goosebumps coated Sam's skin. He was shaking uncontrollably. His hair slapped against his forward, dampened with sweat. Sam played tough but in this moment his youth and vulnerability was electrifyingly clear.

He was confused by Dean's outburst, "What are you talking about? You didn't do anything to me Dean? I did this."

Dean smashed his fist countless times into the steering wheel enraged, drawing blood to his knuckles, "Sam your just a kid! I'm supposed to protect you!"

Sam flinched when Dean's fist impacted with the steering wheel again, a part of him half expecting the fist to connect with his face. Dean instantly saw the expectant look on Sam's face.

"Sam I wouldn't hit you. I would never hit you! Did you think..."

Sam wriggled nervously, "Dean...I-..."

"Ah Sam... For fuck sake...I'm not him Sam, I'm not Dad!" Dean cried, shaking his head angrily.

Sam saw mental snaps of John 'disciplining' his younger self, remembering the harsh, military attitude and strict, no-back-chat upbringing. Watching from the corner of his eye as the belt cracked down on his bare skin. Having to lay and endure it over and over. Sam used to pray to the angels at night. He'd slide out of the big beds and tug the bottom of the curtain slightly, letting moonlight swoop into the room and get on his knees. He'd bring his little palms together gently and wish that his Mummy would be returned. That she would rise like a Phoenix from the flames and fly in to save him. That she would come and take him and Dean away from Daddy. The flashbacks made Sam cry harder.

* * *

><p>Cautiously a police car crept into the side of the road, burying itself in some bushes. The driver peered out, analysing the Impala from a safe distance. His boney fingers clenched a mobile in a vice-like grip, frustration oozing out of his pores.<p>

"The Winchesters are in sight, sir. Sam is upset. I cannot bear it any longer. Dean has to go, he's infringing on the plan," the man vented to the caller on the phone.

"Sam Winchester needs to reach the cult. It is of utmost importance. The ritual cannot be performed without Sam," a grainy voice explained.

Irritated the man sighed, "But Dean is not required. There is something different between them. I can sense it. There is a strong bond connecting them. It could be problematic in the future."

"Quit it. Dean stays for now. We can severe the brotherly bond in time. What happened yesterday? There was no report. Did I not specifically instruct you to call me every day?"

The man smoothed over his dark, long hair and adjusted his police badge, "I lost them momentarily in the night on the highway yesterday but I picked them up leaving a motel early this morning, sir,"

"Don't let it happen again. I need you to keep constant note of what Sam is doing. We need to make sure he stays pure. Keep any bitches away."

"Can't we just take what we need from Sam now? I could do it, I could find a way to get the ingredients."

"No ignorant fool. We need the whole package. He needs to be here. It's the only way," the voice snapped, "Just make sure Sam gets here. Got it." The phone line went dead.

The man muttered to himself. He narrowed his eyes, blinking to a empty shade of black. A disturbing expression crept onto the policeman's face. He grinned evilly.

* * *

><p>Dean reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a tartan rag, leaning across and wiping away his brothers tears. Sam sniffled, whimpering when Dean's hand softly rubbed down his cheek. Yearning for the familiar touch to linger a little longer against his face. To comfort him.<p>

"Dean I'm sorry for doing this. I have ruined everything," Sam bowed his head, nuzzling slightly into Dean's large hand.

Dean cupped his fingers around Sams neck, pulling him up to face him, "Never be sorry for what we did Sam. I'm the adult here, I'm supposed to be the mature one. I've got to take responsibility."

"I'm an adult too Dean. I'm 18 not 12. I knew exactly what I was doing... And I wanted it."

Dean swallowed, his mouth dry, "I did too Sam, but it doesn't matter. We are brothers. It's wrong on so many levels dude. I'm the oldest I've got to accept the blame. If Dad found out-"

"Why does he need to know? It could our little secret..." Sam was clinging onto Dean's hand, trying to hold on to his brothers affection, "I want you Dean. I've wanted you since I was a kid. I know it's wrong..."

"Sammy..." Dean breathed out slowly.

"I know Dean. I know it's crazy. We are brothers, I know it's wrong. But I don't want to lose you. I've loved you for so long."

Dean could hardly contain himself. Sam was confirming his deepest desires. It was splitting his soul into pieces. He wanted to just lunge at Sam, kiss him hard and deep. Going at it again. Touching the skin on his baby brother. Melting into Sam's mouth. They seemed to go through this cycle of pleasing each other one minute and hurting each other the next. Dean was bound to Sam in every way possible; his heart and body and soul belonged to his sibling.

"I love you too Sammy. I would die for you," Dean shook his head, a tear sliding from the corner of his eye, "But we can't do anything like that again. We have to be strictly brothers. I love you so much, just not in the way you want me to love you Sam. I love you like a brother. That's all."

It wasn't true. Not a single word. Dean wanted to scream. His fists were clenched impossibly tight, turning red due to the tension. He loved Sam in every way possible. He'd give everything to be with his brother. Yet he couldn't see a future past the pain and hurt he would cause. Dean was well aware that destruction and heartache followed him wherever he went, till now Sam had stayed immune from his toxic existence. He was sure as hell he wouldn't drag his brother down. There was also the added issue of John. Their father was a cruel, traditional man. Dean couldn't handle the backlash if he and Sam came out to their Dad; he definitely couldn't cope with Sam getting upset, or worse. There was no telling what John would do if he found out. To keep Sam safe it was best for Dean to sacrifice the love and desires he had.

Sam was deathly quiet. He let Dean's words sink in. For some ridiculous reason he had it in his head that he and Dean could ride off in the Impala, to some place where no one knew them and settle down. Live together. The whole apple-pie life. Dog. Kids. White picket fence. Sam baking pancakes in the morning with maple syrup and berries, and extra sugar to satisfy Dean's sweet tooth. Dean playing guitar by the firelight in the evening, the kids running around their feet. It looked so idyllic. However as Dean's words replayed again in his mind Sam watched as the fantasy life he'd dreamed melted away leaving a dark void.

"Okay Dean... I understand. So... Are we good then?" Sam spoke slow. Dean could see how hard he was trying to hold in the cries. Lip shaking under the pressure.

"Yeh Sam we're good," Dean ruffled his hair. Sam tensed up and rolled away.

"Good.. Can we drive now Dean?"

Dean inhaled, controlling himself, "Yeah sure Sammy." He kick started the car again and started to pull onto the road, eyes meeting with Sam. Sam gazed into Dean. Both their eyes were bloodshot.

"Don't call me Sammy..." Sam said quietly. Dean bit his lip. Containing the pain. Blinking back the tears he shifted the car into gear and the Impala sped off down the road, leaves cascading in it's wake. A few minutes later a police car trailed behind.

* * *

><p>The motel was like any other they stayed in. Pungent smell of bleach. Faded wallpaper. 80's patterned carpet. It wasn't anything special. There were twin beds up against the wall, which Sam was silently pleased about; he couldn't handle sharing a bed with Dean tonight.<p>

Dean had headed out about half an hour ago to scout for food and Sam had been left to his own devices. He sifted through his bag trying to find his sweat pants to no avail. Dean's bag was settled on his appointed bed and Sam tip toed across. He started filtering through the bag and sure enough his sweat pants were buried inside. Quickly he slipped them on but as he was about the seal up the duffel bag curiosity consumed him.

He wandered his eyes around the contents of the bag, letting his hands glide over the fabrics. The softness of Dean's flannel shirts and toughness of his jeans somehow soothed him. Sams fingers locked on to the gentle fabric of a pair of Dean's boxers scrunched in the corner. There was a dampness around the crotch. Dean had worn these boxers yesterday. Sams cock stiffened. Gradually he brought the boxers to his nose, sniffing in the scent of his brothers cum and sweat. Hand unzipping his jeans he pulled himself out. He was throbbing.

Boxers hanging off his thumb he moved over and lay down on his bed. He then stuffed the boxers into his mouth to free up his hands, using one to work his hard on and the other to massage his balls. The fabric muffled his cries as he tugged his dick hard. Thinking about Dean. Filling him up. Sam sucked and swallowed the damp spot in the boxers, tasting the faint flavour of Dean.

At that moment Dean pulled up at the motel, parking the car in front of the room. He always made sure he could see the Impala from his room window. Keep her safe. Keep Sammy safe. His only two objectives in life.

The takeout food was sat on the seat beside him. A double cheeseburger, with onion rings and fries for himself and a salad and fruit smoothie for Sam. Scooping the food into his arms he got out the Impala, twiddling the room key around his finger as he whistled his way toward the door. The distinct sound of moaning sent a tingle down his spine. Slowing his pace he skulked up to the room door, placing his ear against the wood. Inside he could hear the cries of Sam, the same whimpering gasps he had made when they were together.

Vigilantly he shifted to the window. The curtains were closed but a sliver of light gave Dean enough space to see into the room. His knees went weak at the sight of Sam masturbating on his bed. Big hands gripping his balls and jerking his dick. There was a black clump of fabric stuffed in his mouth and Dean recognised them as his dirty boxers. His own dick rocketed hard from the display. He could have came right then. Dean might have cooled things off but Sammy was clearly not interested in forgetting his affection for his brother any time soon. Dean couldn't help but feel pleased to know that his words in the car hadn't affected Sam's lust and desire for him. Sam still wanted him.

Dean glanced around the car park. There wasn't a soul in sight. The motel was nestled off road in a woodland, desolate area so the chances of anyone driving by were slim. Seizing the moment he set the bag of food on the ground and pulled his dick out of his jeans and started to play along, watching his baby brother all the while. Eyes fixating on the long shaft of Sam's cock. He knew that Sam wouldn't be able to hold it in much longer. His eyes were squeezed shut and his face was red with straining. Dean tugged quick, exhilarated by the exposure of being outside and the show that Sam was putting on for him. Already Dean could feel the sensation building inside. With his brothers name on his lips Sam orgasmed, spurting cum up onto his chest and some hitting his chin. Outside Dean followed suit and his load ran down his hand and leaked down his fingers. He picked up a napkin out of the takeout bag and cleaned up. Sliding his softening dick into his jeans again.

Using Dean's boxers Sam wiped up the cum from his body, some of it slipping off his chin and down his neck. Still overcome with the itch to ravage his sibling Dean was about to burst into the room and slam Sam into the sheets. Bury his tongue in his baby brothers cum covered face. Lap at his neck. His hand was on the door when he heard someone start to cry. Nervously he looked back through the gap in the curtain.

Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands clutching the boxers, tears rolling of his face. Then out of the blue he threw the boxers across the room and curled up in a ball sobbing uncontrollably. Dean pressed his hand on the widow pane. He knew he couldn't intrude at this moment, despite how desperately he wanted to help. To hold Sammy close and calm him. But he couldn't. Snatching up the food he got back in the Impala and drove out the motel car park. He turned up the volume on an AC/DC song till the car was vibrating and circled the area for a while.

Sam was just coming out of the bathroom with a tissue in his hand when Dean finally walked through the door.

"Sorry I'm so late, the diner was really busy. My foods a bit cold but I can heat it up. I got you a salad," Dean put the bag down on the table. He moved to the microwave and started to heat his food.

Sam sniffled and straightened up, "Thanks, I'm starving. You took forever."

Dean watched affectionately over his shoulder as Sam started munching away at the salad and slurping up the smoothie. It would take time but eventually they would both be able to heal and move on. For now he was just happy to be able to sit down and share a meal with his brother.

_To be continued..._


	6. I'm Good

Chapter 6

The commencing chills of autumn nipped at Dean's toes in the early hours of the morning. He was dreaming sweetly of a cool beer and Sammy in tight jeans and sitting on a pier at sunset, holding hands and kissing one another's necks lovingly. The sky was an unnatural, blaring red, almost like a stop sign or traffic light. Dean was watching the sky confused and when he turned back Sam was crying, shivering and practically blue all over. The sky instantaneously shattered to a piercing, cold shade of cobalt. Smashed remains of red sky plummeted toward him and Dean cowered in fear.

When he roused from his dream Sam was gone from his bed. Dean sat up, instinctively concerned creases forming in his brow. Sam was standing by the window, bags packed on the table, a cold cup of coffee lazily resting in his grip. The trails of sunshine were seeping through the gap in the curtains and planting heated rays against his fitted t-shirt. Dean watched his brothers face silently. The dust in the air floating around him catching against the sunlight and twinkling like glittery dust. He slowly batted his long eyelashes solemnly, the dancing dust stars fanning out and twirling away into the shadows. Sam had always been enchanting to look at but in the morning haze he was mesmerising. He was also rather observant and within a few moments Sam could sense eyes on him. Wearily he turned.

"You okay Dean?" Sam said flatly.

Dean got out of bed and started for the shower, "Yeah Sam, how long have you been up?"

"Few hours, I couldn't sleep," Sam muttered.

"Oh.. Okay. I didn't hear you getting up."

"Yeah I made sure I was super quiet. I didn't want to interrupt you. You looked really.. Peaceful," Sam let some of his hair flop over his face embarrassed and he awkwardly shifted in his boots.

Dean smirked hanging on the bathroom doorframe, "Been watching me sleep, huh Sam?"

Sam squirmed. Dean cringed at his blunder. His words came out much more flirty and suggestive than he had hoped. He was so used to teasing and making playful jokes and now he didn't know what was appropriate anymore.

"Anyway, why don't you go explore or something? Waste some time while I'm getting ready, maybe pick me up some grub on your way back?" He was trying to act as natural and casual as he could to make up for his mishap but each sentence he said oozed that cheesy, staged attitude and lacked true heart or humour.

Sam passed the cup between his hands, back and forth nervously, "Sure. I'll get something you'll like. See ya' in an hour or so." His brother nodded his head. Sam put the cup in the sink with an echoing clank and walked out the door. Dean ran his hands through his hair exasperated and moved into the bathroom.

It was a pleasant morning, the sun rolling up high in the sky as Sam casually strolled out of the motel car park and toward the building across the way. A bell jingled and all heads turned when the attractive man entered the 50's diner. Everyone tried to continue their conversations and not stare too long as he surveyed the room. A group of young, high school girls sitting at the diner bar devoured him with their eyes. This young man was the freshest, most attractive thing to come into this small town in a long time. His arms bulging out of his tight t-shirt, jeans fitted tightly around his thighs, hair swooping down across his face as he slid into a booth. In the corner of the room a policeman peered over his newspaper and eyed Sam too.

The waitresses jumped over each other to get to him first; one lucky redhead, 20-something got there first and bounced over to his table.

"Hi there, Sir. What can I get you?" The waitress flicked her curls flirtatiously, leaning on her hips, trying to emphasise her curves. She licked the tip of her pen teasingly.

"Er, can I get a salad and a soda please?" Sam replied.

She nodded and noted down the order, "Sure thing, one salad and soda coming right up."

Sam watched the waitress skipping away, swaying her butt to get his attention and he rolled his eyes. He was used girls fawning and throwing themselves over him. They'd been doing it since he'd hit puberty. But he'd never been interested, never gotten excited or turned on like his brother did. Many girls had slipped him their numbers and whispered naughty things in his ears. Sam just brushed off the advances.

He always knew he was different. He had a love for Dean that was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. An enduring desire for his brother. It prevented him from even faintly romanticising about anyone else. Slowly Sam let his mind drift off, reminiscing about his childhood, back when his lust for Dean was ignited...

* * *

><p>Sam was half asleep lying across the back seats of the Impala, his head in Dean's lap. He let his hair settle on his brothers thighs, the faint feel of his large bulge pushing up, touching on the back of his scalp. Dean was stroking Sam's face and fringe, his fingers swirling around his forehead. Tickling the smooth skin.<p>

John was sitting in the front of the car driving into darkness, low volume music streaming out of the speakers.

"How's Sammy doing Dean?" John inquired. Sam opened an eye at the mention of his name.

"Fine Dad, his fever is going down. He isn't sweating as much anymore. I'm going to look after him," Dean spoke hushed. John muttered and started humming to the music.

Dean stared down at him, heart filled with love and care. Sam was far too young to be getting dragged on the road like this. It wasn't healthy for a twelve year old boy. Dean could handle himself. He was strong and capable but Sam needed care and attention. Most of all Sam needed room to spread his wings. The shell of the Impala wouldn't be able to confine him forever and Dean anxiously anticipated the day when Sam would outgrow the hunter lifestyle and all it entailed. The fear of losing his brother haunted his mind, like a black cloud of smoke suffocating the good memories.

Sam parted his mouth in his sleep and licked his tongue across the top lip. Dean swallowed. His bad thoughts and fears fading away as he focused on Sammy; plump, pink lips slightly glistening with saliva, lashes curving and quivering as he slipped into a comforting dream, cheeks blushing red. Dean couldn't help but become firmer in his jeans. He knew it was wrong to feel that way about his baby brother yet he didn't care. It seemed unfair. He just wanted to hold Sam and when he was old enough make love to him. Only when Sam came of age though.

Although he was young, Sam was still beautifully attractive. His features were beginning to alter too and Dean picked up on every change. Button nose starting to become stronger. Jaw getting sharper. Childhood freckles vanishing. And his body was getting firmer too. Dean had caught Sammy coming out of the motel room showers, cheap white towel around his waist, stomach starting to appear more toned. Hard muscles forming down his torso. A slight 'V' line teasing the his eyes down to the boy's hidden bulge.

Dean's cock began to grow in his jeans, he could sense his length rubbing into the back of his brothers head. Gently he slid his hand down and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling out his throbbing rod. The chance of getting caught spurred his sexual drive. Harsh coldness of the car contrasting with his searing, hot dick. He shifted his body, stroking his shaft into Sam's skull. Carefully he placed a hand on Sammy's forehead, holding him in place and grinded his hard on against his brother.

Sam stirred awake and cautiously opened his eyes. Dean was oblivious, breathing heavy and fast, head tilted back in his own ecstatic fantasy. Heart thumping so loud Sam could feel the echoing beat of the pulse in his ear drum. There was a distinctive hardness thrusting into the back of his head, pushing up against the folds of his hair. It was like a few fingers running through his scalp, yet this sensation didn't have the pointed, nail sharpness that fingers had. It was a cushioned and velvety hardness. Soft yet hard. And it belonged to Dean. His brother. The only man he truly wanted to please. Everything about it exhilarated Sam. His small cock started to tingle. A warm energy consumed his body.

Dean humped up faster, his cock pressuring into Sam's head. He didn't even care if Sam woke up. The lust he had overwhelmed him completely, swamping him, swallowing him like sinking sand. The harder he thrusted the further he was pulled in. There was no use resisting now. Descending deeper into tempting euphoria.

Sam bit his lip. Terrified and aroused at the same time. He was so desperate to palm his own erection in sync with his brother. He had been hard a few times before and he hadn't truly fathomed what it meant, now he was the hardest he'd ever been. His mouth went dry with anticipation. Sam watched as Dean brought his free hand up to his face and cupped it over his mouth, suffocating his moaning. John didn't seen to notice However Sam heard it all. The intense groaning. He'd never heard Dean make such beautiful whimpers before. Sweet sounds coming out because of him, because of his head. He was doing something to Dean, he didn't understand what, but whatever it was it made Dean cry out and Sam was ecstatic he was having this effect.

Dean dropped his head forward so Sam quickly shut his eyes and feigned sleeping. Gazing down his eyes welled with greed, eating the sight of his baby brothers body. He gasped out loud, mouth instantly dripping hungrily when he feasted on the tent in Sam's trousers. The moment the sensual sound left his lips he shot up, staring at the back of John's head watching for movement; but his father didn't notice the noise behind him and continued to mumble out a rock tune.

Bravely Dean dragged his hand down and ghosted over the erection. He watched intently as the corners of Sam's eyes creased, eye lids shaking under the contact. Softly he began stroking the mound through the jeans. The fabric teasing his fingertips. He bit down on his lip to prevent another moan or gasp bursting out as he continued to drive his cock faster into Sammy's head. He'd been teetering on the edge of an extreme orgasm for the past few minutes and now it finally took control, possessing his body. Shivers booming through his legs when he thrusted up one last time, lifting off the seat. White hot passion clamping onto his soul. Fist wrapped and gripped around Sam's length in the intense moment. Sam's eyes flashed open in shock and then his lashes fluttered close again in pleasure. Ropes of cum flew out of Dean and got caught in Sammy's tangled hair. Globs of white seed soaking in to the long locks. Sam whimpered and melted deeper into his brother lap.

Dean regained his breath gradually. Making shallow gulps of air to steady his heartbeat. He slipped his dick back in his pants. Affectionately he took a tissue and dabbed at the mess he made, keeping his hand by Sam's cheek, touching him. Protecting him. Needing him. There was a tinge of guilt, a slight disgust in himself and as the moments passed the feeling festered and stewed till he couldn't help but let the tears well up. Sam smiled, finally drifting off into sleep, comfortable with his head being buried in his brothers legs. Body tired and aching from all the action before. Dean gazed down sadly and hoped Sammy was dreaming happy. He linked his fingers in Sams small hand and vowed to never touch his brother intimately again...

* * *

><p><strong>CLANK<strong>! Sam snapped his head up in shock.

"Here you go sir," the waitress smiled setting down a plate of salad and a soda on the table with a napkin wrapped around the cool can, "Call me anytime." She winked, indicating with her manicured finger to the phone number scrawled onto the napkin. Sam blushed and smiled, slipping the napkin into his pocket politely.

Sam nibbled at his salad shyly, gazing out of the window. He didn't want to make awkward eye contact with the flocks of people gawping at him. Thankfully the sun was still blazing down onto the black road, the Tarmac sizzling under the heat of summers final days. Secretly Sam hoped the hot weather kept up into the autumn months; he couldn't help but love seeing Dean sweating and shirtless in the Impala. Irritated that his brother was still in his head, fucking with his mind, he crunched down on a tomato. Juice bursting in his mouth. Some sauce slipping from the corners of his lips. Clumsily Sam swiped away the mess with the back of his hand and licked the taste off. The cop sitting in the corner eyeing him edged closer, dropping the newspaper and licking his lips.

Sam mumbled to himself about his brother and shook his head, looking back out at the view. This was another typical, small town that the Winchesters crossed through. Trees lining the sidewalk and leaning over the road creating an archway of leaves that passersby strolled under. They all smiled at each other and waved, conversing pleasantries about the weather and gossiping about their neighbours. Some walked dogs and some pushed prams. Some sat sipping coffee in the sun and some strolled by holding hands. Sam couldn't help but smile sadly. This town was literally the perfect setting for his dream life. Completely, utterly, beautifully normal.

He spotted a few bars which he imagined Dean would drink at constantly and he'd have to drive down in the middle of the night and carry his lover home. There was a quaint law firm just down the bottom of the boulevard, tucked between a bookstore and a pet shop, where Sam pictured he would work. He felt that law was a job that would suit him most in this apple-pie lifestyle. He could still help people without having to hunt. On a small sign just outside the window Sam saw the words 'Mechanics' with an arrow pointing down some dusty road and he instantly thought of Dean slaving away in a workshop, working on some vintage motor, completely submersed in his element. The whole scenario was peachy. Sam didn't have a doubt that there would be a charming local school to send their imaginary children too. Everything was just so cheery and average that it almost made the heartbreak and dismissal of hope ten times worse. It could never happen. And losing even the chance of happiness, losing the dream and the glimmer of possibility, hurt him like a blunt knife to the stomach.

Sam felt it in the pit of his body. The urge to cry bubbling in him like a volcanic eruption. He hurried up the rest of his salad and slurped down his soda. Kindly he called the waitress over and asked for a cheeseburger to go and the bill. Once he had the cheeseburger tucked in a brown takeout bag he tipped the waitress and waved gratifyingly as he marched out the diner. A moment after him, door bell still jingling, the policeman put his dollars on the bar, cocked his hat to the staff and followed him out.

Dean was just tugging a shirt round his back when Sam trudged through the room door. He swung the food bag on the table and diverted straight to the bathroom.

"You okay Sam?" Dean called, already rifling through the bag for his food.

Sam sunk to his knees, holding onto the side of bathtub for support. Swallowing and choking past the lump in his throat Sam managed to speak, "Just a bit queasy.."

Dean squeezed lightly at the juicy cheeseburger in his hand, "I hope it's not the food Sam? I don't want no food poisoning. You sure your okay?"

"Not the food Dean. I'm good. I just need a minute," Sam's throat clenched. His hands reached out and took hold of a damp towel dumped on the floor. Dean's towel. The same towel that had dried his skin, rubbed his hair, stroked his face. Sam brought it to his face and used it to mask his crying. He indulged in the scent that clung to the towel. Just wanting to be with Dean. Cherish him. What was so wrong about that? Loving someone. Loving someone _so_ much. Why didn't Dean love him back like that? What did he do wrong? Wasn't he enough? The questions wrapped around Sam's heart like barb wire, tightening around him, drawing out all his emotion and feelings. He shook violently and angrily on the wet floor. His body mourned Dean's touch. Enough to burst every vein, to shatter every bone and explode every organ. He was a shell without his brother.

"I'm good.." Sam whispered, face moistened with tears. Lips dry. Voice course. He dug his nails into the towel, straining and gripping like his life depended on it.

"I'm good... " He repeated again and again, forcing the towel into his face, suffocating in the essence of Dean, "I'm good... I'm good..."

He wasn't good. He would never be '_good_' again. But Sam needed to say those words over and over to try and programme it into his brain. He couldn't function without Dean and Dean couldn't cope without him. He _needed_ to be good. He'd suspected it would be difficult just not this bad. To have Dean right next door, to want to pull him in and kiss him and make love to him. To be so close and to have it all dashed because of a fucking phone call. It was simply cruel.

Sam stayed in the bathroom, almost lifeless on the cold ground. Emotion drained out of him, poured out in the floor and into the towel. After what seemed a decade he got to his feet and put his hand on the bathroom door and lock.

Slowly he sighed, "I'm good..."

_To be continued..._


	7. Crushed

Chapter 7

Large, grey clouds bubbled in the sky, brewing together the thunder growls and lightening claps, while the Impala sped down the road. Trickles of rain splashed down onto the windscreen, the wipers swiping in a constant rhythm sending the drops careening to the sides. Sam slipped back into his childhood and watched two water droplets racing down his passenger window, following their path with his finger.

The past week had been an atomic bomb of drama and tragedy, the shrapnel now lodged deep inside. The invisible wound that persistently bled. Ever so slowly draining Sam of his life. It was impossible to adjust. One second he was filled with lust and desire, his body weaved into Dean's; the next he's crying in a heap on the floor. His heart had taken such an emotional battering, especially over the previous day so he was happy to have a large leg of their journey out of the way.

Mostly Sam was dismayed by his constant, uncontrollable love for Dean. He tried to focus on other thoughts but Dean was like a rabid dog untethered; he rampaged into Sam's mind, chewing away at his soul, gnawing at the corners of his brain, eating into him. There were a million reasons why it was wrong, why it couldn't work. He tried to tell himself over and over. Listing his brothers impossible flaws in belief that he could deter his affections. Yet it didn't have any effect. Sam still wanted him.

There was a low rumble from the sky followed by the darkening clouds spilling out rain. The slashing downpour seemed to kill all heat in the car and Sams skin was suddenly cold, missing the feel of Dean. Haunted by the flashbacks of his brother touching him. Sam had been held by his brother many times before over the years, they would hug and wrestle and joke. But the way Dean had touched him over the last few days was different. His hands were exactly the same; flat, long, rough slightly in the palms, nothing changed, yet the way they had graced over Sam's skin was explosive and new. He grieved the lack of contact, those addictive hands lighting him up, filling him with a glow. Like fire on paper Sam's body had simmered and flickered when Dean's fingers skimmed over his flesh, the flames consuming when Dean's nails bit into the skin. Sam couldn't escape the visions. He rubbed his bare arms with his hand, feeling lonely and unloved. Wanting to be touched in that way again.

The harrowing torture of being in the car with his brother again, smelling the leather of the seats.. The same seats that he and Dean devoured each-other on, breaking a lock that couldn't be resealed. Sweat trickling down their chests. Hot, naked bodies sticking to the seat cushions, making the unmistakable sound skin makes when it peels off leather. If things had been different Sam may have lost his virginity to his brother on those back seats.

The Winchesters had inadvertently released one another's darkest desires. There would be no way to go back, not completely. They were past any point of retribution. No amount of friendly banter would make up for that underlining sexual urge. And however hard they both tried to deny it they couldn't keep the facade up forever.

Dean tapped his fingers to the beat of the radio. Like Sam he was trying to keep his head focused on getting to the West Coast and not fixated on his brother. It was proving to be a challenge. Especially with Sammy sweeping his hand over his muscled forearm, antagonising Dean, teasing and taunting him. He couldn't help staring. Sam's fingers circled and thrilled along the bare flesh, exactly where his own hands hand stroked days before. Dean turned slowly, half facing out the front windscreen, breathing out hard and heavy. Warm heat from his breath contrasting with the cool surrounding. Goosebumps swarming over his body. Hairs on the back of his neck lifting and standing erect. Sam had this effect on him; he felt like he was high on his brother, drugged up on his image. Sipping in the sight of him, swallowing it all, feeling it churning in his stomach.

Sam was just there, flaunting his body. Dean tried to look elsewhere but found he was focused up on Sam's eyes. Large, hazel moons cupped in the long, dark fan of eyelashes. Longingly looking out at the wet woodland backdrop. Raindrops and trees reflected in his captivating irises. Dean wetted his drying lips with his tongue. Hunger guzzling within him. He could feel the blood soaring through him. Raging pulsations in his veins. Why had he spun all those lies yesterday? To protect Sam or to protect himself? Sam and him, two brothers, giving into their fiery, rich indulgences was destined to be a fatal concoction. But Dean wanted to gurgle down and bask in the poisonous pairing regardless.

It would normally take a lot for Dean to succumb and give his heart to someone. Not with Sam. With Sam he could open his soul and expose himself willingly because he knew he would never get hurt or deceived. Dean had been brought up rough. It was common knowledge in the hunter community. The scrawny little kid that John Winchester dragged on his hunts. Left to fend for himself and the baby that his father could barely handle. Dean had become the kind of guy that slept with a girl and 'forgot' to call her back. He'd been raised to brush off the dirt and blood when he fell. To wipe the tears and stop crying like a baby when he was hurt. All he ever wanted was affection. Jumping in and out of motel beds with different girls seemingly filled the void, though he always yearned for more. Yet now he had denied himself the chance to love the only person who ever accepted and cared for him. Cut the stem before anything could really flourish between them. Pitiful disappointment surged in his chest. He blinked rapidly and pulled his eyes back to the road.

* * *

><p>They travelled to the thump of old school rock down the wet highway for another twenty minutes before Sam noticed the police car that was tailing them in the distance.<p>

"Dean is that cop car following us?" Sam inquired.

Dean partly jumped to the sound of his brothers voice tearing into the music, "What?"

Sam pressed his head sideways against his passenger window and peered back, "That police car. I'm sure it's following us."

"It's a pretty empty road. Rainy day. I'm sure whoever it is they are just patrolling, making sure everyone is driving safe in the weather conditions," Dean justified. However he took a private moment to glance back and eye the car that seemed to be stalking them. Perhaps the Impala had come up in some kind of police report. Suddenly Dean kicked himself for not checking before he gullibly took the car from his father. He had thought John opting to switch for an old truck so he didn't 'stick out' was too good to be true.

"Try turning off at the next crossroads, see if the car follows," Sam suggested, sensing Dean's unease.

Dean nodded and when the next junction came up he swung the car to the right and started creeping up a hilly passage. Fir trees mimicking Christmas postcards sprouted up out of the rocky hillside and launched shadows over the road. Sam kept watch and just as they Impala turned a bend he caught a glimpse of the police car turning right also.

"Definitely something not right Dean.." Sam mumbled. Dean growled frustrated and kicked his foot down on the gas pedal. The Impala lurched into high speed, rocketing up through the mountain woods. Sam leant back into his seat. Hand holding onto the car door cautiously.

"Might wanna slow it down a tad Dean. He's not chasing us. I can't even see him anymore," Sam strained.

"That's the point. Quicker we lose him the better. We don't need no cop following us." Dean quickly turned up another small, bendy road. The car weaving and looping round the corners. Skidding slightly on the damp tarmac.

"Ease up Dean! We don't want to be pulled over for reckless driving," Sam reached for the wheel concerned.

"Well he won't be able to pull us over if he can't find us," Dean smirked, pushing Sam's hand away. Suddenly Sam heard the revving of an engine at the end of the car. The flashing blue and red lights shattered through the darkness. He whipped round, eyes wide at the sight of the police car that was closing in. Metal almost scraping together.

"Holy shit!" Sam gasped. Dean's foot slammed down hard. The man in the car was in sight in the rear view mirror. He was hunched over the wheel barking down a phone. Determination and desperation creased in his forehead. Large brow digging into his eyes which were black as pitch.

"It's a fucking demon!" Dean shouted, "We have to lose him!" Sam had to do a double-take. A demon was _hunting_ them. The Impala wheels skimmed across the road in haste, spraying water up and showering it back onto the police car. Now the downpour was intensifying. The thunder crackling and cackling around them. Dean sat up, hands grinding into the steering wheel. Sam was fuelled with fear and confusion. His mop hair whipping crazily into his face and out again with the joggle motion.

"Dean he's gaining!" Sam screamed manically. The police car scraped along the side of the Impala, chipping away at the black paintwork, inching further and further ahead till the two cars battered against each other in a vicious standoff. The Impala roared and crushed into the rocky hillside, knocked astray by the demon. Sam smacked his head into the window and yelled out. Dean spat angrily. He spun the steering wheel and plunged into the police car in retaliation, ramming it off-road into the overgrown weeds. Wet mud and leaves coughing up onto the black of the road.

Dean flung a hand over and gripped Sam's shaking fingers tightly, "You okay Sam?"

"I'm... I'm okay Dean. Just keep driving, I don't think he's done yet!" Sam took a moment to accept his brothers loving gesture, stroking their fingers together. He then pulled his hand up and soothed the mark where a bruise would most definitely form on his head.

"Fucking demon smashed up the side of my baby! Asshole!" Dean swore. He forked the car up a gloomy dirt track, mist coiling round the wheels and the roots of the trees. A crisp coolness choking all the heat out. The tips of the mountains were bitter with autumn frost. Dean prayed that the fog would conceal the car. Sure enough the police car pounced out from the bushes and crushed onto the road in rapid momentum charging after the brothers who had managed to breeze ahead out of sight.

The demon scowled angrily, scanning the highway for any sign of the Winchesters. Just as he passed a dirt track he spotted two tiny dots of the red Impala taillights.

"Got them," He gnarled, veering the police car up the trail in pursuit. Cranking the car up a gear and bursting up the road. This time he didn't hold back and he hammered his car right into the back of the Impala. Sam dived forward, his shoulder mashing into the glove compartment popping it open and flinging cassettes out. Dean was fired face first into the steering wheel. His nose spurted blood and he grimaced but continued to drive enraged. Adrenalin strumming through him. In his brief daze Dean had slacked on the acceleration and the Impala slugged behind allowing the demon to gain. They were now back in a side by side confrontation.

A rocky ridge came into sight. This road couldn't continue forever. Dean darted his eyes around the interior of the car for any weapons he could use to fight off the demon but most of the equipment was tucked in the boot. The trees vanished and the cars shot out of the dark woodland up a windy, crumbling path. There was no barrier and the Impala wheels teetered on the edge of a large valley, spitting rocks over the drop. Sam peered down. His lip trembling.

"Dean..." His voice quaked and broke. Dean winked confidently at his brother and revved, forcing the steering wheel as far down as he could. The Impala brutally struck the police car, pinning it into the rocky hill. Stones and pebbles land sliding down on top of the demons car roof. Time slowed. Dean saw the demon lose control, frantically thrown from his seat, steering wheel wildly spinning uncontrolled. They unexpectedly hit a cascade of water that was splurging down the road from the mountain. Like a spinning bowling ball the police car jolted and skewed right into the Impala. Sam called out Dean's name and Dean snapped his head round to call out Sam's before the wind was sucked out of his body and the car flipped over the edge into the valley.

The first impact of the car trampling into the hard hillside made the most ear splitting screech. Metal contorting and bending as it blundered down. Sam's window immediately shattered and he was tumbling like a pebble in a tin can inside the car. Bones cracking. Head knocking. Unaware of which way was up. As the Impala continued to spin and roll Dean too was thrown. Branches and leaves managed to poke through the gaping windows and scratch at the brothers. At one point in the descent the car bonnet splintered into an old tree. The crack of wood and crunch of metal echoing in the desolate forest. Slowing the car down till it slumped to a stop upside down

* * *

><p>Sam lay on the ceiling, body unsettled against the dented, misshapen roof. Glass, leaves and scraps of trees clumping all around, cushioning his head slightly. When he came round all he could hear was the consistent sound of the Impala horn, bleeping and bleeping in painful distress. His left eye was caked in a sticky substance. When he tried to open it he cried out. Immense pain freezing his core. Nervously his fingers dotted at the swollen shape of his eye socket, blood coming off on his skin. The rear view mirror lay cracked in the corner and Sam reached for it panicked. Was he going to be blind? With the other eye he analysed the situation. A deep slice above his eyebrow was oozing clots of blood and his eye was bruised and swollen shut but other than that he was okay. He wouldn't be able to open that eye for a while however.<p>

His body was aching and his right wrist displayed a large lump where the bone had been dislocated. He searched quickly for Dean, expecting to find him battered and pissed off but he wasn't in the car. He was gone. The front windshield smashed. Sam tried to work out what happened and figured he must have been launched out. Holding his right arm with his left hand Sam clambered clumsily out of the car and into the downpour.

"Dean!" He coughed. The rain running through his clothes, dragging his tired body down. He slipped and fell on his knee swearing. Looking up the valley there was a clear, destructive journey detailing where the car had torn into the nature. Pieces and chunks of the Impala dotted up the hill. Glass sparkling like a bread crumb trail leading to the wreckage. But no Dean.

Sam scanned the area, limping and tripping around the forest. There was a human sized lump stooped over a fallen tree, plaid shirt torn, blood soaking the fabric. Sam almost tripped over himself to get to the body. Salty tears slid down his red, cut cheeks. Mingling with the blood and mud on his face.

"Dean! Dean are you okay!" He chanted, collapsing next to his brother, tugging at his arm turning him onto his back.

Sam surveyed Dean's wounds. His lip was cut. Face mashed with dirt and grime, hair matted down with rainwater, hanging off his forehead. He was unconscious and blood drooled out his mouth, pooling down his chin. Sam's gasped when he saw a thick shard of glass protruding from his brothers side under his rib cage.

"Dean! Please wake up. Dean please. Your gonna be okay," Sam comforted, brushing the mud from his brothers face. He wanted to take the glass out but he knew once he did the blood would keep flowing. There was no way of stopping it. Towering over the broken man Sam spread out his shirt so the rain wouldn't fall over him anymore.

"Come on Dean," Sam coaxed. His brother wasn't moving. Not at all. A flurry of panic whirled around inside him like a tornado. He pressed his ear down to Dean's chest, begging to hear the thump of his heart. Luckily a faint bumping calmed his nerves. Dean was alive.

Dean coughed, eyes flickering open, "Sam..."

"I'm here Dean, I'm okay. What are we gonna do?" Sam leaned in, his face almost pressing into Dean's, tears smothering his strangled crying.

Dean stretched his hand up groaning, cupping Sam's chin, "We need to move. You need to help me get up Sam. The demon..."

"Dean I can't move you, the glass in you side... I don't know what damage has been done," Sam explained. Dean coughed and spluttered, lifting himself onto his elbow.

"List-...Listen to me. We will die out here in the cold if we don't move. Help me up... Please." Sam shook his head dismayed and helped pull Dean forward, slinging his good arm around his brother. Gently as he could he yanked Dean up, worming his hand round and under Dean's armpit. They shuffled, wincing and gasping in pain, gradually moving in and out of the trees. Sam could sense the life and fight leaking out of his brother. Fading away.

"Come on Dean, stay with me! We are a family, we're Winchesters. We fight," Sam strained. They continued to blunder on.

"I know Sam.. I'm trying. I'm so sorry.. I'm so sorry Sam. I wanted to keep you safe. I've failed..." Dean whispered, his breath rasping. Heartbeat getting slower.

"Don't be sorry. All you have ever done is care for me. Kept me safe. Not far now Dean," Sam growled, dragging Dean onward. Snuggled in the shrubbery was a warped, rotting log cabin. Wood damp and smothered in moss. Inside would hopefully be dry. Sam carefully lowered Dean down on a rock and advanced on the cabin, stomping a foot into the locked door. It splintered and blasted open. He ran back. Hoisted his brother up. With the last of his energy he lugged Dean into the cabin, kicking the door close with his foot and unloaded him on a dust covered sofa.

Darkness engulfed the Winchesters. The cabin was pretty bare and smelt of damp. A couch, a kitchen with table and chairs. That was all there was inside. There were two doors Sam assumed lead to a bedroom and bathroom but he hadn't the energy to carry Dean through to a bed.

"Get some of that fabric from the curtain Sam. When you take out this glass your going to need to stitch and bandage me up. Stop the bleeding. I don't think anything was damaged, glass missed my organs. Have a look for a needle and thread too Sammy," Dean panted, the words being breathed out. Long pauses between sentences. Sam got up and snatched at the curtains, ripping off a strip. He tore through the cabin. Scrambling in the cupboards. Searching out what he needed. Luckily a first aid box under the sink gave him hope.

Tentatively he held onto the glass shard, "Dean this is going to hurt..." Quickly he slid the glass out of the flesh. Dean screamed, vein in his neck pulsing, head banging in pain. He writhed and wriggled. Sludges of blood running out, caught in the curtain. Sam pressed the fabric firmly on the wound then proceeded to start weaving the thread and needle into the sensitive skin. Trying to move as fast as possible to save Dean any more torture. When he was finished he dug out a large bandage from the first aid box and wrapped it around Dean's body, soaking in the blood. He bound the bandage securely. Discarding the blood stained fabric scraps onto the floor.

Sam stroked his brothers head, "I did it Dean. Have these they might help with the pain." Handing two paracetamols that Dean forced down his throat and swallowed dry. Sam helped Dean strip off his wet shirt and peel off the soaked jeans. The two of them shedding wet layers, almost naked apart from underwear. Sam pulled a crochet blanket from the back of the sofa and lay it over Dean. He was starting to doze. Slipping into silence.

"It's okay Dean. Sleep. Rest. I'm gonna be here all night," Sam smiled, laying his head lightly on Dean's chest to ensure he was breathing. It comforted him to hear the thumping of his heart getting steady. Sam pulled his knees up into a compact position, snuggling on the sofa, skin touching. His hand laying over Deans thigh protectively. The beat of his heart lulling and calming Sam into a exhausted slumber.

_To be continued..._


	8. The Morning After

Chapter 8

The pungent ring of mould and moth bolls curled into Sam's nose in the early, crisp hours of the morning. Sunshine crawling over the hills and craning into the valley, casting rays through the dirt clouded windows. Light breeze whistled under the door and through the gaps in the wood. Beetles scraped over the windowsill, basking in the golden sun flecks. The earth outside drying out under the sunrise. Peace driving away the terrors of yesterday, soaking up the rain and blood.

Dean's body was raging like a coal fire, sweat slicking up his chest and forehead. Lips dry and cracked. Sam lifted his face off Dean's hot torso. His cheek reddened by the warmth. Carefully he slipped out of the blanket, cool shadows suffocating the heat out of his body. Discomforted by the sudden fall in temperature he crossed his arms and folded his battered hands under his armpits. His bare feet steadying on the creaky floor as he made his way through the cabin to the kitchen.

He flicked the kitchen tap. Nothing. He sighed. Obviously the water wouldn't be on. Irritated he rolled his eyes. There was a murky white fridge gathering dust in the corner. Worth a look. Sam scurried over. Body progressively getting cooler. The fridge squeaked when he swung it open. Inside wasn't too bad, discoloured and some grime but nothing too stomach churning. It was bare par two large bottles of water in the bottom drawer. Unopened. He lifted one out grinning goofily. There wasn't any power so the fridge was inactive but the cabin was cool enough that the water was somewhat chilled. In one of the cupboards was a glass; Sam picked his damp t-shirt from the floor and wiped the inside of the glass and filled it with water.

Like a lioness Sam prowled over to his injured cub, water in hand and slid down onto the sofa.

"Dean? Dean, wake up buddy," Sam coaxed, using the corner of the blanket to swipe Dean's dripping head.

Dean blinked awake confused, "Sammy?" He shifted up and pain darted through him. Instinctively he moved a hand down on his side crying out.

"Dean! Dean calm down it's okay, take it slow," Sam placed his hand gently on the wound, "Do you remember what happened?"

"Car crash," Dean muttered, allowing Sam to help him sit up slightly. Eyes holding in tears, leaking at the corners.

"Yeah. Demon drove us off the road. You had glass in your side. I think I fixed it, I think I did it right.." Sam trailed off anxiously. He wasn't sure what he had done. He'd panicked. It happened so fast. His eyes glanced over at the bloody, curtain remains. Dean could have died. Might still die... Sams senses froze at the thought. Brain numb thinking about his brother dying in his arms...

Dean peered down at the wound, lifted the bandages so he could analyse the damage, "I think it's good Sam. You did good. Don't think I'm going to need a doctor," Dean nodded impressed, "What about baby? She's pretty banged up, huh?"

Sam giggled, "Trust you to be thinking about the car before your own health. I haven't been back to check the crash site.. I-uh... I didn't want to leave you..." Dean's lip curved happily. He peeked under the blanket at his bruised skin. He was only wearing boxers and had a vague memory of Sam stripping him off and snuggling him up.

"You really did take care of me Sammy," Dean combed his fingers through his brothers hair, "Thankyou." Sam blushed.

"You, er, you should drink something. Your burning up quite a bit. Have some more paracetamol as well," Sam handed over the glass and the foil wrapped pills.

Dean gulped down some water, wetting his lips and lubricating his throat. Popped two pills into his mouth and swigged again.

"We're kind of lucky that we found the first aid box," Dean pointed at the open box of plasters and bandages, "And this place too. Pretty damn lucky. Once I'm sorted we can head up and have a look at the Impala. Maybe some of our stuff is okay?"

Sam's head shook vigorously, "Hell no! You're not going anywhere anytime soon. You need to rest. Heal. It's going to take time. I might not know a lot but I sure as hell know u can't be moving and stomping up hills with a wound like that!"

"Come on Sam. I'm fine now. You did the job."

"No Dean! Fuck that, no. You're resting. We can stay here for a few days I'm sure," Sam was insistent. Dean mumbled. He hated being useless. Work through the pain like John always told him to. Needed to act strong. But he couldn't deny the aching his body felt. Though he wouldn't say it out loud some rest would do him good.

Sam got up and walked over to the two doors; one opened to a dark, windowless bathroom, the other leading into a bright, sunlit bedroom. A large brass bed covered in a dust sheet filled the airy space. There was a fireplace against one of the walls so Sam knew he could keep the room warm. He strolled through in his skimpy boxers and stripped off the dust sheet revealing a white puffy duvet. Dean watched his brothers ass as he bent over the bed and fanned out the bedding. A smile caked cheekily on his face.

"You can stay in here," Sam said as he came back into the main room, "I'm gonna help you move, okay?"

Dean shuffled and Sam linked his arm around, knocking his dislocated wrist. Like touching a boiling kettle, the pain blasted through his arm instantly. Burning. Sam cried out and stroked the bone.

"Sam? What happened?" Dean looked worriedly, "Shit, is your wrist dislocated! Here let me help." Dean reached for Sam's wrist.

Sam pulled back, "Dean you can't help, I'll sort it myself." He reached for a bandage in the first aid box.

Dean shimmied forward and took Sam's wrist softly, "I can do it. Let me please. It might hurt for a moment though." Dean felt the bone tenderly and then suddenly popped it back into place. Sam gasped. A flash of pain bolting inside him then subsiding. Dean wrapped the bandage around the wrist and then picked up some of the clean curtain shreds and made a makeshift sling that he tied at the back of Sams head. Fingers lingering on the smooth skin and tails of wild hair. Stroking lovingly. He leaned in to peck at the skin but Sam unknowingly sat up.

"Thanks Dean," he smiled, "Now let's change your bandages and get you to bed." Sam unbound the bloody rags, revealing the stitch in his brothers toned body. A tear in the perfection that Sam had fixed. He smiled proudly. Using antibacterial wipes from the first aid box Sam wiped at the stitches lightly. He then placed a large plaster over the wound and tied fresh bandages around Dean's body. Dean nodded reassuringly at his brother.

Slowly they got up and shuffled along the floor, bodies entwined like vines, blanket draped like a cape around Dean to keep him warm. The sunshine flooding into the bedroom, devouring the white duvet in melon light. Pouring over them as they entered and Sam sat Dean down on the bed. The mattress was springy; kind of hard if Dean was being honest but much more appeasing than the sofa. Sam helped swing his brothers legs into the bed and wrapped the duvet over him till Dean was comfortably cocooned. He skipped back into the living room and brought the glass of water to the bedroom, resting it on a small wooden shelf that was nailed to the wall beside the bed.

Dean fluttered his eyelashes painfully, bright sunlight tearing at his eyes. Sam hurried over and pulled the drapes so the light was soft and tinted. He secretly liked this scenario: cut off from the world, no phone call intrusions, caring and running around for Dean. Obviously he would prefer that Dean wasn't so injured but regardless Sam was overjoyed to have his brother all to himself for the next little while.

"I'm going to hike up and have a look at the car, see if I can bring back some of our stuff," Sam said. He picked up his jeans, face scrunching at the thought of having to trudge in these wet, itchy clothes.

Dean sensed Sams discomfort as he began tugging the wet trousers over his feet, "Why don't you try the cupboard Sam? Might be something u can wear?"

Sam kicked the jeans away and moved to the slatted cupboard tucked in the shadow of the door. The choking stench of mothballs hanging in the air around. He opened the door half-heartedly, expecting an empty closet but surprisingly inside was a large pair of denim dungarees. He pulled them out on their hanger to inspect.

"Oh yeh, they'll do fine Paul Bunion," Dean hollered.

"Shut up jerk!" Sam laughed back, unhooking the dungarees and slipping into them.

"Bitch!" Dean winked. With the dungarees on, no t-shirt underneath, standing in the low glow Sam looked extremely seductive. Hair swinging down, framing his face. His tight pecs sneaking into view. Dungarees draping low on his front. He adjusted the buckles, tightening as much as he could so they would stay up better and rolled up the two legs to prevent the fabric trailing. Dean licked his lips.

Sam stumbled around the floor after his boots and clumsily put them on. Bending down and tying up the laces. Dean sneaked a dirty look, eyeballing the roundness of his brothers butt. The way the dungarees clung tightly, wrapping round his thighs.

"Okay that's me off. I'm going to take some of these clothes out to dry," Sam jumped up, scooping up the soaked bundle and marched out.

There was a nip in the air. Clawing at Sam's exposed skin. The dungarees didn't really help keep the heat in and despite the sun flaring down goosebumps manifested over his arms and chest. Quickened by his desire to retreat inside Sam slapped the wet jeans down on some nearby rocks, then spread the t-shirts and socks over a bush within the path of the sun. Suddenly energised he began stomping through the wood and up the slope.

Sam knew he was close when remnants of the car started appearing like ashes skipping off a distant fire; some metal lodged in the dirt, glass twinkling like gems in the daylight, torn maps and snapped cassettes and de-icer strewn into the bushes. He tried to gather up anything salvageable. Anything useful.

When the shell of the Impala came into view his heart quaked. Everyone was aware that Dean loved that car. It was his baby. He knew the parts inside and out. Could roll off the motoring history like he was a priest preaching the bible. So there was no doubt that seeing the Impala's deformed remains would tear him to pieces but Sam was just as devastated, if not more. For the Impala was the only home Sam had ever known.

He crept up to the overturned car, lowered himself and peeped inside. He'd been raised within those metal walls. Now it was all shredded away. All the memories. The army man he'd forced into the ashtray. Dean's rattling lego's in the vents. Their names imprinted onto the body like tattoos. Sam learned to drive sat behind that very steering wheel. Learned to talk and shoot and hunt, all with the Impala as his constant backdrop. He'd even drank his first beer sat on the bonnet at the edge of a lake at sunset. Sam's eyes glazed over solemnly. His home in tatters.

After a moment of silence he wandered round to the boot. Managed to pry it open enough to pull out the weapons and survival gear. Took him a few trips but eventually he'd carried all their belongings back to the cabin shack.

"How's she looking?" Dean called when Sam had brought the last bag into the living room.

"She's in a bad way Dean. Real bad," Sam lowered his head sadly.

Dean breathed out, "Oh... That bad... Well, er, I'm sure I can fix her. Get her lifted, taken to Bobby's, sort her out good and proper."

"Yeah, maybe."

Revitalised from his brisk exercise in the early fall chill Sam started to unpack some of the bags, unloading cans of food into the cupboards, taking some of their clothes and hanging them up in the closet. There was enough stocked up canned and processed produce to last a few weeks. Energy bars and beef jerky and canned soup and the likes would be the Winchesters diet for the foreseeable.

"We ain't movin' in Sam. Why you unpacking all our junk _wifey_?" Dean questioned jokingly.

"Shut up you ass," Sam laughed, "May as well get comfortable. It's going to be at least a week before we can think about moving."

Dean kicked his head back into the pillow frustrated, "Ah well shit Dad's going to be wondering where the hell we are. Could you get one of the phones out, give him a call?"

Sam flicked open an old Nokia, "No bars. We're in the middle of no where."

"Fuck. Let's just hope he can handle himself till we get there then. He's gonna be hella pissed with us." They both shuddered at the thought of seeing John angry. That kind of rage struck fear into them both.

"Why don't I fix us up a fire? Then I could have a look for the main breaker and get some power in this place, maybe water too. And then some food if I can get that stove to work," Sam encouraged, trying to stay positive and upbeat. Dean sighed in agreement.

There was a small stack of wood in a wicker basket in the living room with balls of scrunched up newspaper squeezed inside too. Sam pulled the basket into the bedroom and started slotting them into the fireplace. He poked a look up the chimney to make sure it was clear before he struck a match and lighted up the paper. Gradually the wood took hold and flames licked into the air slapping away the cold. The room absorbed the heat. Dean shuffled slightly gleeful. It was nice and cosy.

It didn't take Sam long to hunt out the main breaker but when he tried to flip it back on nothing happened. He groaned. That meant no electricity. No lights. Unfortunately no oven either because by the looks of it the damn cooker ran on electricity too. He contemplated fiddling around with a wrench but didn't see much point in the end; most of the time here would likely be spent in the bedroom and the fire was bright enough to cradle the room in an amber haze. Plus they could cook over the fire too.

The water valve was luckily a different story. Sam managed to let the water flow into the cabin with ease. He let it run a while, spitting into the silver basin, before he tested a glass from the kitchen tap Thankfully it looked and tasted fine. Using a flashlight he delved into the bathroom and checked the toilet. Worked perfect too.

Sam searched out a pan from the cupboards and rifled out a grill from one of the duffel bags and set up a cooking station over the bedroom fire. Using a pocket knife he sliced open a can of vegetable soup, poured the lumpy contents into the pan and left it to heat up.

He walked outside, the sun starting to dip behind the wilted tree tops. Humming a little tune while he collected up the clothes, most of which were dry, apart from the bottoms of the jeans which were still damp. Back inside Sam spread the clothes around the cabin to air out.

"Looks like we're not going to have any power but I got the water to work and the clothes are almost dry," Sam bounced up on the empty side of the bed, "How are you feeling?"

Dean elbowed Sam playfully, "Much better."

"Here," Sam leaned down the bed into one of the bags and handed Dean up a packet of potato chips, "Eat these. The more food you eat the better."

Dean popped open the packet and devoured a handful of chips, licking the salt remains from his fingers. Making every morsel count. Sam inhaled sharply. Fixated on his brother. The slow, seductive way his tongue swiped across his salty fingers. Pulling them out and drawing them back into his warm pouted lips.

"So.. Um..," Sam snapped out of it, "Er.. I meant to say how's your wound? Your certain your okay. What about infections? Maybe I could take a walk back up to the road, find some help?"

"Or end up finding that demon. We're lucky he hasn't tracked us down already. No. I can't let you wander that far alone. Plus I'm fine. I'm a lot stronger than you think Sammy," Dean argued.

"You lost a lot of blood. Even now your still pale. I'm just worried that's all."

"Well I'm fine now. Can't you see that? I'm back to my regular self. We could be on the road sooner than you think."

Sam took Dean's hand, lacing his fingers into Dean's, staring into his eyes, "If you get any worse. Even in the slightest. Then I'm heading for help, regardless of what you say. I need my big brother. Can't have you dying on me."

Dean squeezed Sams hand, "I would never leave you."

"I thought yesterday.. I thought I was going to lose you. For good," Sams hair draped over his eyes, hiding the twinkling of tears.

"It's okay. I'm here. I'm safe," Dean stroked his brothers cheek, "Now how about that soup Sammy?"

Sam held back the fearful sobbing that was trying to break out and retreated to the fireplace to serve up the soup. The flickers of flames swayed and skittered as he dipped the spoon into the pan. He purposely filled Dean's bowl and left himself with less. Behind him Dean was joking on about Sam being the 'perfect wife', laughing whole-heartedly from the pit of his stomach, head thrown back. Sam had to smile. Dean was infectious, especially when he was messing around. Whenever they were together Sam was almost always engulfed in positivity and happiness. As he sat down on the bed with the bowls of soup to share, both of them grinning contently, Sam couldn't have dreamed for a more perfect moment.

_To be continued..._


	9. Chick Flick Moments

Chapter 9

The wind whipped like a cruel tyrant at demon, thrashing the policeman unform and tails of his black coat around like a ship sail. He breathed out heavy watching a faint, smokey mist coil from his lips.

"I'll find him sir," he said.

"You better Victor. Without a doubt there will be a punishment for your lack of sense. If Sam is injured in any way you will face unimaginable pain. Do you understand," the voice spat out the phone. Victors teeth clenched. Eyes snapping as black as the cool night above.

"I understand," he growled.

"Find the Winchesters. There is no longer any room for error. They're going to be on their guard now. Take Sam by force if necessary. And make sure the next time we talk you have good news," the voice said icy, venom darting off every word.

The line went dead and Vincent slipped the phone in his coat pocket. It was going to be a whole lot harder now. Following the Winchesters and not getting caught had been hard enough; the demon was well aware that if the brothers wanted to disappear he'd find it nearly impossible to track them again. This was going to take a lot of work. But he had a starting point. Casually he walked to the edge of the valley and stared into the abyss where the Impala tracks descended...

* * *

><p>Dean spent the next morning revelling in the warmth and feel of Sam sleeping against him. Sharing beds as kids was nothing compared to this. Pressing himself up against his baby brother, body locking into the curve of his butt and the arch of his long back. They fitted together like jigsaw pieces. He breathed in at the back of Sams head, smelling his hair and teasing the hairs on his neck.<p>

For an hour Dean lay, examining his brother, allowing Sam to sleep peacefully. Hardly daring to move in case it woke him. He could tell that Sam was exhausted when it got to the late hours of last night and his arms were sagging, eyelids yearning to be closed. So as the minutes passed Dean relaxed to the soothing rattle of Sam snoring. The rise and fall of his body with each breath. The way he kind of hummed and mumbled to himself.

When Sam finally started to wake up Dean feigned sleeping and then pretended to awaken so he wouldn't look creepy or perverted. In the back of his mind, despite everything they'd experienced together, Sam was still his brother. He didn't wanna freak him out by getting caught watching him sleep.

"Did I wake you?" Sam guiltily asked when Dean gave an exaggerated yawn.

"Course not Sammy. Stomachs growling anyway. How about some breakfast?" Dean said. Sam slumped out the bed and fished out two packet pasta dishes.

"These are going to have to do," he laughed as he dotted around the cabin filling the pan with water and livening up the dwindling fire.

Privately, while his brother cooked the pasta, Dean lifted his shirt and bandages and checked himself. If he had an infection or any complications he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell Sammy. He knew he couldn't move far and it would take Sam at least three days to find help if there was anything wrong. He didn't want to worry him.

The flesh around the wound and stitching was red and inflamed which Dean hoped some higher dosages of paracetamol would deal with. Softly he pressed into the stitching, eyes focused for any blood or pus that might ooze out but luckily nothing came. The fever he had was still pretty high. He prayed that it ceased too. So far he was in a better condition than he'd expected.

Sam handed over a cold bowl with some warm chewy, rubbery pasta inside. Dean slipped the spoon through the food disappointed and had to almost force the bland package food past his lips. The watery sauce had a slight tinge of cheese but otherwise the entire meal was tasteless. More than ever he craved a double bacon cheeseburger. Just picturing the feast made his mouth water and the plastic pasta taste ten times worse.

"I knew you would hate it," Sam chuckled.

"Huh?" Dean coughed on a particularly tough pasta piece.

"Your face Dean, it pretty much explains it all," Sam joked. It was true. With each bite Dean looked like someone was peeling off his toenails. Sam could hardly contain the laughter building inside whenever he looked up at his brothers reaction. Dean had a way of pulling these exaggerated faces and expressions that made Sams eyes crease with giggling.

"Hold up! Remember the time, a few years back, I dared you to taste that hot sauce when we were in Vegas? You went purple!"

"Dude we said we wouldn't ever bring that up again!" Sam burst out laughing and fell forward, nuzzling his head into Dean's arm. Awkwardly his bowl tipped and the contents ended up down his own leg.

"Shit Sammy, watch yourself!" Dean gasped.

Sam jumped up, snatching at the dust sheet that was bundled on the floor and catching the mess before it could drop onto the bed. His dungarees were now stained, reeking of the watery pasta sauce so he peeled them off his skin. It wasn't till he was standing almost butt naked in the middle of the room that Sam realised how exposed he was. Shyly he squirmed on the spot. Tight boxers cupping his balls and length, his hands trying to hide his modesty despite his brother previously witnessing it all.

Dean's eyes devoured Sam. His dick tingled in excitement. A heat coming from between his legs that made him grateful for the duvet which hid his growing member. Everything that was wrong, all the mistakes he'd made over the recent days banished to the comers of his mind. Dean's sole focus now on Sammy.

Their eyes met for a moment. Sam was instantaneously plunged into an ocean of green, submerged in his brothers unforgiving gaze. Brainwashed into silence by the absorbing, emerald iris combination. Dean batted his full eyelashes seductively, inviting Sam to delve in further. Like he was being beckoned Sam stepped forward, leaning tall over the bed yet still managing to look pure and childlike in his nervous stance. Dean wanted so badly to hook his fingers in his brothers boxers and pull him into an embrace. The itch to ignore his injury and offer his body and soul to Sammy, as though he was an almighty god, hazel eyes dreamily staring down. Waiting. Wanting. As Dean leaned forward his breath hitched. Sams mouth parted slightly, his tongue sliding out and licking his drying lips. He pulled a knee up and slowly knelt down, edging closer to his brother.

Dean felt cocooned in a heart gurgling chill, his body shuddering under the sensual tension beginning at his toes and sweeping to his ears. Eyes flickering in anticipation. Someone had to make the first move. It just took one kiss to break the agonising lull. Neither moved however. Sam remained perched over his older brother, hand gripping onto the headboard behind Dean's head, other arm hanging on Dean's thigh. Dean could smell the slight musk flowing from his brothers bare chest. His eyes wandered down the young, muscled stomach. Fingers reaching out to make the first touch. The contact they both desperately begged for. Suddenly a bird cawed outside and Sams eyes went wide, broken from his transfixed state and flung into reality. He pulled himself off the bed in silence, scooped up his dirty clothes and the dust sheet and backed off to the bathroom. Dean could have shot the bird for totally pissing on his chance.

"Thanks you fucking cock-block," Dean mumbled and scowled out the window.

Concealed in the bathroom Sam felt he could finally breath. Like a balloon he was near bursting and deflated by letting out long, shaky pants. His hands tightly gripped around his racing heart. It terrified him how close he'd come to slipping back into old habits. Palms sweating with the pressure. Body quivering in disbelief. He steadied himself on the bathtub and chucked the dirty laundry into the tub while he regularised his breathing. How could he just walk back out there? Dean was clearly coming onto him. Right? Sam wrestled with his theories for some time, scribbling them down in his head before he chose to suppress it all, wrapping it into a compact ball and throwing it into the abyss of his mind. Best to forget about it. He could have been reading too much into Dean's actions. It wouldn't be the first time. And Dean was especially prone to playing mind-fucking games when he was bored.

When Sam did eventually scamper out of the bathroom he immediately changed into his other clothes that were stashed in a duffel bag.

"Er..Dean I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me.." Sam muttered as he pulled a grey t-shirt over his head.

Dean tried to play it cool, shrugging casually, "No sweat Sam, honestly. We're both just.. Tired.. I suppose."

Sam scratched the back of his head, "Yeah.."

There was a few long minutes of quiet and Dean found himself eager to kill the awkwardness, "Its, uh.. A shame the water can't go hot, I'm dying for a long, hot shower."

"I don't think there's a chance of a hot shower any time soon but I could maybe try and sort a bath out? We could fill the tub with hot water from the kettle? Think you might need to wait a while though, let those stitches heal first," said Sam. He was trying to keep his mind from wandering back to his and Dean's shower escapades yet all he saw was snapshot flashes of memory; his hands pressed against the wet tiles, the shine on Dean's things as the water rushed down his legs, the pulsing, rushing desire that flooded the room with steam.

"Aw come on Sam, surely I can have a bath, if it's not too hot?" Dean sighed.

"I'm not sure.. I would give it a few more days Dean, 'kay?"

"Please Sammy, I miss feeling clean!" Dean pouted.

"Don't give me that puppy dog look, that's not fair," Sam turned his back on Dean, crossing his good arm over his bandaged, sling arm in a parental manner. In his heart a bud of happiness blossomed when Dean made that expression.

"Come on all we have to do is fill the tub and I could have a soak, can't hurt anyone can it?" Dean wined.

"It could hurt _you_. Plus you're not going to be able to get into the tub alone, I'm going to need to help you..." Sam trailed off. Dean realised what his brothers silence hinted to. Being naked and vulnerable. Letting Sam hold his naked body and help him into the bath. It didn't even frighten him to be that exposed. Instead he was enlightened to the possibility of a sexual experience with Sam.

"I understand... I don't mind, if you don't Sam... You've seen it all before anyhow," Dean gestured to his crotch area. Sam fidgeted embarrassed. Dean was unapologetically crude most of the time and his blunt attitude about being naked was somehow a turn on to Sam. He seemed bolder. An alpha. That he could dominate Sam in a way he'd only dreamed about.

"..Okay, we can give it a shot, but not till later this afternoon when your pills kick in," Sam compromised.

The rest of the day Sam spent clearing up the cabin, cleaning his messed up dungarees and reviewing the remnants of memories captured from the crash site. Hands brushing over the items like jigsaw pieces and the Impala was the final piece. He missed the homely smell of that damn car. Yet here in the sunlit cabin Sam strangely felt secure. Like this could be his new home. He even took the time to pick some flowers while he slipped out to hang the dungarees to dry. Carefully he organised the mixture of wild flowers in a jug of water and sat them in the bedroom by the bed.

"Really Sam. Flowers. I thought we agreed no chick flick moments!" Dean mocked.

"Shut up asshole!" Sam hollered as he went back to folding clothes red-faced.

As the clouds sucked the setting sunlight out of the room Sam pottered about lighting candles and keeping the fire glowing bright.

"I've been thinking Dean," Sam chirped up, "That demon that hit us off the road, why would he do that? Was he trying to kill us? Because it doesn't feel right. I think he was after something."

Dean sat up in bed, "Hmm, I didn't think much 'bout it Sam. I think he just wanted to kill us. You worried he's gonna come back?"

"Maybe. If he wanted to kill us he might wanna check he did the job right. What's he gonna think when our bodies ain't there?"

"Might think a pack of wolves dragged us away," Dean said sarcastically.

"Har-har, very funny Dean, I'm being serious. All our stuff is gone and we've probably left tracks, it wouldn't take a genius to find us," Sam rubbed his hands anxiously, "I think I'm going to head out, try and get rid of our tracks, maybe set a false track off in the opposite direction."

"Don't be silly Sam, it's going to be dark soon. And if what your saying is true then you shouldn't be out there alone."

"I can handle myself Dean. It won't take more than an hour," Sam urged.

Dean got up, prepared to climb out bed after his brother but Sam wagged his finger.

"And don't try and stop me, I'll be right back. I swear," Sam winked and vanished into the sunset soaked wilderness.

Dean analysed the window for the next hour, overflowing with anxiety. As the amber shades of the sky gave way to deep reds and then drifting into plum purples his fear swelled. Stupidly it had never occurred to him that the demon wasn't done with him just yet. Of course Sam would have the brains to think of it, he was so smart. Didn't give himself enough credit as far as Dean was concerned. The candles buried the bedroom in an ominous glimmer, the light tricking Dean's eyesight many times into believing he saw Sam approaching. The wind teased at the door and more than once Dean was sure he heard the handle being turned, expecting Sam to stride into the room any second but he didn't.

When the night sky finally claimed the last breathes of sunshine and some of the candles Sam had lit were going out Dean's heart was thumping. His mind imagining the worst. Fuelled with worry he shifted his legs to the side of the bed. He eased off the mattress and stood up, determination to find his brother fixed in his head.

_To be continued..._


	10. In The Woods

Chapter 10

Autumn had barely begun but once darkness engulfed the valley an advancing gust of chill tore into the hills. Each attack of wind slicing at Sam's skin, eager to drain and consume any warmth. His tight t-shirt and thin jacket provided no shelter from the cold. Regardless he quietly flicked the collar of his jacket up and curled his face away into the fabric.

Thankfully his eyes had adjusted and he was able to monitor the scene before him, while crouched behind a thicket of thorns and bushes. He'd been frozen on the spot since his ears first pricked to oncoming footsteps almost an hour ago...

* * *

><p>Sam led the fake tracks down the mossy banks, enticed onward by the sound of rushing water, the roar that beckoned him into open sunshine. Around him the trees created a canopy of green and orange faltering leaves. Every so often an amber leaf would swirl down in the breeze and dance past his gaze. Despite the mild coolness in the air he was pleasantly warm, slightly sweaty even from trudging so far in the wilderness. He only hoped the trail worked; in theory it would lead whatever was following them a few miles away. As the dense trees parted Sam found himself beaming cheerily, white teeth sparkling like gems in the sunlight. He always privately appreciated art and the scenic display before him was a captivating masterpiece; boulders swooping round the pebbled bay, gushes of water blundering deeper into the woodland, fir trees framing the banks. He stumbled down upon the stoney beach and laughed out loud at the chance find. It was brilliant luck. Now he had the perfect route to lose the demon forever. Methodically he set the tracks so they seemed to walk right into the rivers flow. That would surely confuse their predator.<p>

In his head he took a mental photograph of the enchanting cove and promised to bring Dean here once he was better. Sam pictured he and Dean sipping on beers admiring the suns glow. How it hung in the sky, lazily sinking into the ground. Dean laughing and joking around, arms flailing around as he talked, healthy again. The two of them skimming stones into the shallows, Dean getting competitive and then huffy when his pebbles sunk straight to the bed of the river. Dean wrapping his arms around Sams waist, fingers lingering on his hips and tugging him into the cool water. Playfully splashing each other.

Sam could see how idyllic it could be. And then it just became all he wanted and all he needed, for the two of them to venture here again, to experience that perfect day he had cemented into his dreams. Like nothing really mattered any more. Woes of the demon flittering away like confetti in the wind. The only thing Sam could think of was the lost hours he longed to spend here at the river with his one and only love.

Quickly he slipped his boots and socks off and started to walk into the water. It was icy and numbed Sam's feet senseless. The stones were slimy underfoot, like stepping on jelly, yet he continued to walk through the river back upstream. This way the demon wouldn't be able to track him back to the cabin. His footprints lost under the constant splurge of murky water. He was excited to unload his tale of the river to Dean so he rushed over the pebbles, slipping and stumbling, snubbing his toes and bruising the soles of his feet in the haste. He continued to trip up the river bed for quite some time before he began manoeuvring into the forest to return to the cabin...

* * *

><p>Sam was trapped. The former policeman; now dressed in complete black jeans, shirt, long coat and boots; was analysing the crash site. Sam was quite a few yards away. The consistent blasts of wind masked his strained breathing and attacked his eardrums but he was still able to see the demon. His hands digging through the shell of the car. Sniffing the air. Touching the footprints that wandered off into the night. Sam watched the demons eyes narrowing. He circled the Impala again and again. Always touching. Sensing. Searching.<p>

Sam's knees ached from being stuck in the same position so long. The arctic temperatures stabbing at his joints. Entire body desperate for a release. Yet he didn't dare move. Instead he mentally kicked himself for passing so stupidly close to the crash site. Should have known better. Dean would never make such a rookie mistake.

_Dean_. He'd be at the cabin. Waiting. Worrying no doubt. Feeling useless and stranded. Probably getting frustrated at his lack of ability, at the helplessness. Sam expected Dean would be pushing himself. Trying to get the strength to come out and find him. His brother never gave up on him. Sam had to try and keep his emotions contained as he reminisced about all the times Dean had cared for him. Been there to comfort. Nurture.

He recalled Dean's arms strong and muscular, even as a young teen, cradling him when he was having nightmares. Rocking away the fears. Voice smooth like caramel. Soothing little Sam to sleep. The way Dean let baby Sam lie with his head on his lap, hands combing into his curly wild hair. Fingers caressing over his skin. As a child Sam always opened himself to his brother, giving his heart and soul to him, waiting for Dean to retaliate.

Back when Sam was smaller than his brother he would dream of standing on his tip toes, stretching up and kissing Dean. Innocent kisses of course. Kissing was always for 'grown ups'; something Sam saw on TV or witnessed whenever John would stumble into the motel with his latest piece, pressing slobbery kisses all over her body. Sam yearned to just press his lips onto his brother. He wasn't aware it was inappropriate at the time. Dean was the only other person except his father that Sam was in constant contact with. All he wanted was to experience that moment with Dean and to feel grown up. Looking back Sam could laugh at himself for his childhood infatuation. The feelings he had, which he thought were one sided, _weren't_. All along Dean had felt the same.

Sam shifted his weight in the trance and a branch snapped under his foot. Like a bullet leaving the barrel at lightening speed all thoughts of Dean and the past vanished. He stared straight ahead. The demon looked up from the wreckage. Sam swallowed. Panicking. Surely the moon would be illuminating the whites in his wide eyes. He was bound to be caught.

Glaring into the forest, almost directly at Sam, the demon circled menacingly. The air seemed to still. Leaves shaking down to the ground. Sam slowed his breathing, heart crushing into his ribs, pulse racing. The demon stepped forward and started creeping round the bushes, scanning through the branches. _Closer_. Each step he made warning Sam. _Closer_. Hairs on Sams neck started rising anxiously. _**Closer**_...

A crescendo of perfectly-timed wind smashed sharply into woodland, rumbling like a hungry beast, knocking Sam from his perched position and pushing the demon away. Lying in the dirt Sam peered up through a web of roots and grass and watched as the demon stumbled, then steadied on his feet, body standing strong against the battering freeze. A moment later he observed the demon picking up the false tracks and abruptly vanishing into the deeper trees in pursuit.

He waited almost half an hour before he even braved getting up from the ground. Silently he retreated back towards the cabin. Eyes constantly flicking behind to check he wasn't being followed. Stepping softly onto the earth. Turning and using a stick to brush away any foot prints he left as he went. The wind clinging to his clothes. Pulling him in all directions. Hair blasted into an untamed mane. The windows of the cabin were glowing in the candlelight when he finally approached like dim headlights of a car. He moved so swiftly inside he almost knocked over the limping, hooded figure of Dean who was just about to step over the threshold.

"Woah! Dean what are you doing out of bed?" Sam gasped, throwing his arms around his brother to hold him up. Dean's hood slipped off in the embrace and he looked up with teary, green eyes at Sam.

"I was worried Sammy..." Dean mumbled, praising the return and pressing his face into his brothers chest. He loved that Sam was taller than him for this very reason. Deeply he inhaled the familiar scent. He was safe. Back where he belonged.

"Let's get you back to bed and I can explain everything." Sam began to pull him along and settled him in the sheets. Dean moaned profusely; having spent so much time and energy struggling to get changed and get to the door, only for Sam to stride in and drag him back to bed.

Once Dean was relaxed Sam started running round the cabin blowing out all the candles, putting out the fire and drawing all the curtains.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked confused.

Sam ignored him as he locked the door, pouring salt at the windows and entrances and began manically spray painting demon traps in all the rooms.

"So get this," he finally started when he came back into the dark bedroom, "I went and set up the fake tracks but when I was coming back the demon turned up. He was here. In the woods. Looking for us."

"What?" Dean shook his head.

Sam felt his way through the darkness, pin pointing his brothers voice and found the bed. Slipping up into the duvet he managed to see Dean's face in the shadows.

"He took the bait though, headed off into the forest. Let's just hope he's gone for good. But we definitely can't stay here as long as we had hoped. He could come back," Sam stressed.

Dean reached out and his hand brushed Sams shoulder, "Don't worry Sam. He's not going to come back. We're going to be fine."

"How can you be sure Dean? I should keep watch for the night, you sleep and I will guard the cabin."

Dean let his hands search up until he had Sams head cupped in his big hands. He pulled his brother forward so that their noses bumped together. His fingers lingered on Sams cheeks, rubbing in circles.

"I won't let anything happen to you, do you understand. Nothing. I promise," Dean said slowly, each word fighting away Sams fears, "We can take every day as it comes. You've set up traps and salted the doors and windows, so even if he finds us he can't get in. We can deal with whatever comes our way. Together."

An impulse kicked in. An urge to end the moment perfectly with the right display of affection. Show exactly how much he cared. All reservations thrown into the wind Dean took hold of Sam and pressed their lips together. Sam whimpered and turned to fluff in Dean's embrace. Tongue slipping out and searching for the delicious taste. Their mouths merged together. It had been a while since Dean had shaved and his slight stubble dragged against Sams flushed cheeks leaving a burning imprint. He loved it. The itch that haunted his face when Dean shifted against him. He was sure his mouth was bone dry but Dean continued to delve deeper with his tongue, causing his mouth to water eagerly. His lip quivered. Every worry he had came crashing down all at once. Dean was kissing him and that's all he cared about. Neither daring to breath. Too scared to pull away. Dean stopped making out gradually weaning Sam away but planting tender kisses on his wet lips lovingly instead. Sam let his mouth fall open and gawped at his brother.

"Dean... I thought.." Sam spluttered.

"Sam, I need you." Dean pulled Sam down into the duvet and wrapped his arms around him so they lay connected on their sides, staring into each other. He was shivering though his shakes subsided as Dean's hot breath drifted over his body, melting the cold. Warm air electrifying their bond. Sams cheeks rosy and burning, the duvet pulled over both of their heads, trapping the heat inside. It was magical. Sam felt as though his insides were heating up, sparkling into action, sending embers of excitement tingling through his body. Lighting up his senses. Every time Dean stroked his hand on the small of his brothers back Sam felt his nerves fizzle with desire.

Dean's cock was rock hard, pushing against his tight, denim jeans. Yearning to be free. Desperate for his baby brothers touch. He tugged his trousers down, the fabric ripping off his sweaty thighs. Sam gulped and began to tear his t-shirt off, nipples hard and body glistening. Slowly the Winchester brothers stripped under the safety of the duvet, cocooned in a sexual, steamy pocket of lust. The clothes damp with moisture. Each layer of fabric they removed accelerated the burning need. Sam was struggling to contain his urges. The fire within simmering uncontrollably but a black plague of worrying tarnished the sexuality. John slipping into his mind. Fear that Dean would reject him again. That it would all end again. Like poison the thoughts trickled into his bloodstream. He slowed down, face conveying a mixture of sadness and lust.

"I just want to lie with you Dean," Sam whispered meekly, "No funny business for now. Is that okay?"

Dean batted his lashes, "Yeh, 'course baby." Sams heart fluttered at the pet name; half of him wanted to take back his words and give his body and soul to Dean again. His cock throbbed between his legs. Head telling him to have control and body begging for some intense action. Dean blushed yet neither of them were too embarrassed. It wasn't forced or cheesy. It worked. It fitted. Sam was Dean's baby. Forever and always.

They were naked. Bare. Flesh touching flesh without the need to be intimate. Just lying with each other was enough to satisfy the desires. Fingers caressing skin. Worries and fears exorcised, giving way to overwhelming feelings of trust. Dean's large hands massaging Sam's side, swirling down to his ass cheeks, teasing the toned handful of butt. He was delicate and kind. Sams lip curled sensually. Eyes flickering. Climbing higher into ecstasy. Dean was hardly touching him, his hands grazing over the curve of Sams buns, however it imprinted a burning sensation deep within Sam. Any common sense deserted him and he let his body convulse under Dean's fondling. He wanted to have his brothers hands on his body for the rest of his life.

"You scared me tonight Sam, don't ever scare me like that again," Dean breathed, throwing the duvet off their heads and letting the cool air soothe the heat.

"I won't Dean," Sam swore, "I found the perfect place for us to visit when your better. This amazing river with a pebble beach and everything. It was really beautiful."

Dean grinned, "Promise you'll take me there."

"I promise."

"You have a tendency to break promises Sammy, you also promised me a bath tonight but.." Dean laughed rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry. I totally forgot. We could try and sort a bath for you tomorrow night instead?"

"I was just messing, don't sweat it," Dean nudged Sam with his elbow, "But sure, tomorrow sounds good."

Dean shifted his arm up and round so that it cradled Sams back and lay his other arm over Sams side, his hand hanging down and tickling Sams skin. Sam snuggled down and rested his head the the crease of Dean's armpit, one of his arms squeezed into his chest the free arm wrapped around Dean's body, looking up mindlessly content and goofily smiling like a fool. Dean leaned his head down and kissed into the tangle of Sams hair at his head. Sam hummed happy.

"I wish we could stay here forever," Sam said softly.

Dean breathed heavily, "Maybe we can, once we've finished all this business with Dad and the West Coast."

Sam felt disheartened, "We have to come back here. This could be our place... I wish we didn't have to go help Dad."

"We can't just ignore him Sam, he's our Dad," Dean answered.

"But what has he ever done for us apart from drag us around and treat us like soldiers, shouting and giving out orders like a drill sergeant," Sam ranted, staring up at the blackness of the ceiling.

Dean sighed, "I know, I know. But once this job is out the way we could try something different, a life without hunting, if that's what will make you happy. I only want to make you happy Sammy."

Sam lifted his head and planted a kiss on Dean's nose, "Can we actually do that? A life without hunting?"

"If you want," Dean replied.

"All I _want_ is you."

Dean pushed on top of his brother, held Sams face and slanted his head so he could kiss into all of Sams mouth, opening him wider and swirling his tongue into every available space. He splayed a hand against Sams smooth jaw, thumb pressing into his chin, holding him in place like Sam was weightless and completely under his control. In retaliation Sam scrunched his fist into Dean's hair, dropping his hand down the coarse face and letting his fingers dig in at the rough texture. Sam held his breath as long as he could but Dean wouldn't release him so eventually he started panting into Dean's mouth, fighting away and stealing gasps of air before Dean reeled him back in helplessly.

They pulled apart and Dean heaved, falling back onto the mattress, then reaching out and hugging Sam close.

"All I want is you too Sammy," Dean said. Sam let his head fall onto Dean's chest, his hair cascading up against Dean's neck. He lay there till his eyes became droopy and he began to feel sleepy. Dean pulled the duvet up and tucked it around Sams body and held him. Sam didn't care about the demon or John anymore. He had Dean. As he started drifting off he dreamt of the river; the day that he and Dean could slip off, with the sun was high in the sky and have the perfect day he'd envisaged.

_To be continued..._


	11. More Than Brothers

Chapter 11

For once, for an entire, blissful morning since it all began, Sam didn't even think about the demon or John. He didn't feel guilty or ponder the consequences. Instead his mind drifted through waves of joy and delight, crashing through him slowly like he was a shell lost in a sea of peace, picking him up and hurling him round in the rolling surf.

Dean's arms were still rocking him. Eyes sealed under a long fan of eyelashes and Sam tried counting all the freckles that speckled his cheeks. After a while he lost count. His body too fidgety. He wanted to lie relaxed but his mind was somersaulting with love and he couldn't contain it anymore. Just being here, safely woven into one another and submerged in the mattress and duvet made his heart skip a beat. His pulse out of rhythm and like a wrecking ball his heart swung against his rib cage. He scrunched his fists into the bedspread, pulling it close and shyly hid his childlike smile under the softness.

The air had a fresh coldness about it drawing his breath out like fog, reminding Sam that there was no heating. Normally a constant blaze would have simmered down to hot ash by now but he'd put the fire out last night. More than ever Sam didn't want to slip out of bed. Instead he took comfort in the warmth that he was soaking up from Dean's sweaty body for a while longer.

He slinked his fingers through the light, wispy hairs that trailed down his brothers belly button. Caressing around the navel. Writing the word 'Sam' with his index finger on Dean's lower abdomen symbolically. It was just for fun; reminded him of the game he and Dean used to play on long drives with Dad: guessing what the other had 'written' on their back (usually Dean would write different monsters but Sam would always ask for him to write again, revelling in the tickles that shot through him when Dean's finger graced onto his back). As his fingers swirled the final stroke of the 'M' his eyes twinkled gleefully This was Sams way of marking Dean. It was by no means permanent though secretly he wished it could be. He longed to see his name imprinted into Dean and imagined Dean's name branded on him. Matching. Connected. So that anyone who came this close to his brother would know he belonged to another.

His hand searched up Dean's muscled stomach and curved up to the bandage on his side. Last night Sam hadn't taken much notice of the stitches and Dean hadn't winced or complained as they embraced yet he felt slightly guilty for lying on him in this condition. He ghosted over the area, sudden anguish filling him up like water in his lungs, like he was swallowing a river. How come Dean was so brave? He didn't even seem to fear death even when he'd been so close to the end. Sam couldn't help but marvel at this man, his brother, who had managed to take his whole, entire life and fill it with love. Despite the darkness of living on the road and hunting these terrifying things, Dean had given Sam his heart and Sam felt that no one could ever strip that away from him.

Mesmerised Sam began to hum an old tune he had stuck in his head and he shuffled up the mattress. He planted a peck on Dean's lips, pressing lightly and slipped away from the bed. Absent of clothes and now exposed in the stillness of the bedroom Sam quickly scampered around the gloomy room and pulled a pair of boxers and black jeans from a bag. He yanked up his underwear, regretting his decision to leave the concoction of heat provided by Dean and the thick bedding. The jeans were slim fit so when he stuck his foot in one of the legs the fabric gathered causing him to lose his balance. The tune he was humming lost on his lips when he gasped. He reached out quick enough, caught the bed, steadied, then pulled the jeans right up and buttoned the fly. Smoothing down the fabric and regaining composure Sam restarted mumbling the tune as he slipped a thin t-shirt over his head.

He wandered into the other room and buried his hands in the bags, pulling out a few packets of crisps and some cereal bars. There wasn't a whole lot of food left and he wished he could make Dean a home cooked breakfast in bed; bacon, eggs, sausages, the whole lot. Half-heartedly he smiled.

"Hey Jude," a voice spoke behind him. Sam turned and Dean was leaning against the doorframe, buckling his jeans around his waist, smiling sadly.

"Huh?" Sam said. He hadn't even heard Dean approaching.

"The song you were humming, Hey Jude, mom used to sing it to us when we were kids," Dean said, his voice croaking slightly when he mentioned their mother. It had been so long since he'd said the word '_mom_'. Felt strange hearing it roll off his tongue, it was always meant to be said but never was, like when someone says their own name out loud. Odd and foreign in his mouth.

"Oh," Sam paused, "You really shouldn't be out of bed, especially after yesterday. Your pushing yourself too hard."

Dean waved his hand dismissively, "I'm fine you big goof," he smoothed a hand over his bandage, "Feel great actually. I want to start walking around a big more."

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Yes I do, so don't you go giving me that sarcastic, 'I know best' look your throwing me right now," Dean chuckled, pointing over at Sams expression.

Sam rolled his eyes and passed over one of the cereal bars, "We're beginning to run low on food supplies"

Dean munched vigorously into the bar, "You said there was a river close by? We could fish?"

Sam slumped down on the sofa, staring wide eyed at his brother, "Fish? What about after that? We've got no car, a demon on our asses, winters coming soon..." Dean hobbled over and dropped down on the sofa steadily, cupping his side.

"Listen, we're going to be fine. Don't worry about it. We'll just take every day as it comes. You said you liked it here, right?" Dean stroked his cheek.

Sam blushed, "Yeah, I really like it here."

"Then it's settled. We stay."

Sam bit his lip, he didn't want to say if but someone had to, "What..what about _Dad_?"

Dean sighed, "I don't know Sammy. We ain't got no phone signal in these parts anyway... Let's just wait till I'm better okay. We can deal with dad then." Sam smiled meekly at that and sunk himself into the sofa nibbling on his cereal bar. Dean didn't want to think of John. The last time he let his father impose on his dreams and he'd pushed Sam away. He wouldn't do that now. Couldn't. No more silly games. If they were going to do this then they did it properly. Dean leaned over the sofa and reeled in Sam for a kiss. Crumbles of cereal bar tingling on both their lips.

"I love you Sam, I'm not afraid to say it anymore. I love you. Crazy love. Like wanting to touch you and kiss you all the time kind of love. To see the world with you. I don't want to fuck this up again Sam," Dean rolled his fingers in Sams curly locks, tangling himself in his brother.

Sam shivered as Dean's fingers burrowed down his neck and he snuggled his head down, smothering Sams throat with kisses, "I love you too Dean. I always have. I don't care if it's wrong, I don't care what anyone says. We can stay here. Just you and me. I don't need anything else but _you_."

"Just you," Dean whispered into his throat, the vibrations thrilling his senses. Sam moaned, falling back into the sofa, body gurgling out for more. He worked his hands round onto Dean's back, palms skimming down the muscles and absorbing the movements as his shoulders curled into the touch. Dean put a hand behind Sams head and held himself over Sammy's body, slowly grinding down on him. Sam smothered his fingers down Dean's arm, feeling the muscles tensing underneath.

"Are you sure your okay?" Sam whispered, eyes looking up filled with awe. Dean was still so fragile.

"I'm fine. I promise, baby," Dean replied, kissing the tip of Sams nose playfully and Sam giggled goofily, stomach still churning with excitement whenever Dean used the pet name. Dean grinned like a wolf and began slipping his tongue into his brothers mouth. Sam welcomed Dean's familiar, plump lips onto his, their tongues swirling around each other. He felt like his mind and body were being charmed out, like Dean was singing a spell and drawing his soul to the surface.

"Dean..." Sam mumbled lustfully. He tried to keep note of every inch of Dean's body as they indulged on the sofa; the taste of his mouth in the morning - slight hints of cereal bar tingling on his lips, the feel of his tongue as it twirled around in his mouth, the way he closed his eyes firmly while they kissed like he was afraid to open them in case it wasn't real. Sam memorised it all just in case one day, if he was parted from Dean for too long, he could think back and remember each action. Remember that in this moment he was wanted.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Dean chanted, pressing kisses into Sams neck and on his cheeks and all over his skin, kissing anywhere that was exposed. The rushes of passion simmering down to slow, gentle pecks. Sam could tell Dean was getting tired. He'd used almost all his energy and understandably wasn't back to normal yet.

"Let's go back to bed, I wanna lay with you a little longer," Sam suggested. Dean winked and gleamed happily. Carefully he got up and held a hand out to Sam.

"What a gentleman," Sam smirked, Dean helping him up and letting him lead on ahead.

Cheekily Dean smacked his hand against Sams tightly packed ass, "Watch it with the snarky comments." Sam turned back and scowled impishly, rubbing his jeans.

"Like it a bit rough, huh Dean?" Sam teased bursting out into fits of giggles as he flopped down on the bed.

"And if I did?" Dean said, a tinge of seriousness swamping his coy face, eyes sharply staring down at Sam.

Sam beckoned Dean down onto the mattress, "I'd do anything for you. Anything Dean."

Dean lay down beside him, "I might hold you to that Sammy." He dug his hands under Sams t-shirt, fingers tracing around his hip-bones. Dean had a way with his fingers and Sam couldn't help but adore the way they massaged his skin. Nails scraping into his flesh. Each fingerprint scorching through to his bones, sending euphoria circulating in his blood.

As Sam buried himself into Dean rain began to rattle against the paper-thin, glass panes, tapping in a rhythmic manner, like little soldiers on steel drums. The warped window frames groaned as the wind weaselled through the cracks and rainwater seeped in. An eerie, dampness choked the valley, heavy moisture suffocating the air. The brothers rolled around on the duvet, kissing every so often, delighting in the vibes of one another's bodies. Communicating via touch. Sam walked two fingers up Dean's chest and Dean smoothed Sams hair back. They linked hands and lay on their backs watching the ceiling, listening to their hearts beating and the rain drumming and the wind wailing.

The weather subsided and room seemed to flood with stillness; Sam felt as though he was underwater, submerged in Dean, swallowing all the loving glances, sinking in the cheeky curve of his lips and drowning under the force of his attention.

"I wanna go outside," Dean sat up, pulling Sam up too. Sam looked out the window at the wet woodland, drops of rain still tipped off leaves onto the forest floor.

"I don't think it's a good idea Dean. It's wet and you can hardly walk," Sam said.

Dean huffed and stood up, "Don't be such a sourpuss. You can help me walk. I just want to get some fresh air man."

Sam got up and flattened out the creases in the duvet behind him, "Fine. A small walk. Ten minutes maximum. Get your shirt and jacket on." Sam rummaged through a bag to get a jacket and Dean fisted the air while he had his back turned.

Dean put on a grey undershirt and half buttoned a plaid shirt, then Sam helped him pull his leather jacket up over his shoulders before they made their way to the door. Arms linked they stepped over the threshold and out into the autumn cold.

The ground was sodden underfoot and Dean's boots squelched on the mud. He was glad to have Sam keeping him steady. The chill of the air dived into his lungs and he felt as though every breathe was grating his throat. He pulled his undershirt up and bit into the fabric, pulling it up over his chin to give his exposed, windpipes some relief for a moment. His cheeks seemed to instantly flare red in the cold outdoors. Fat raindrops showered down on his head and clothes, as though the trees were dogs shaking off after a dip in the sea. Gradually they plodded into the woodland, moving as one body, feet stomping in cohesion.

Dean felt so impossibly small. Giant, daunting trees towered above him. He looked up. For the first time in days he had the sky exhibited overhead; a canvas of crisp clouds and milky blues. Black specks of birds flocked in the distance. The bleak hillside beckoned and Dean couldn't fathom that the Impala had tumbled all that way.

Only over a week ago the sun had been blazing in the sky and Sam couldn't believe how quick the temperatures had dropped. He rubbed his thumbs on the hem of his jacket to try and void the numbness that ached in his fingertips. He pulled Dean in closer.

"None of this seems familiar," Dean mumbled, turning slightly to glance back at the cabin. Moss lingered around the exterior walls, the wood a dark, wet brown, and trees shrouded the rooftop.

"You were pretty out of it when we found that place," Sam solemnly sighed and massaged his forehead. He didn't like thinking back to the day of the crash; haunted by the fear that he might have been left alone in the world had Dean not pulled through. He could feel the sting of tears prickling to the surface. Swiftly he brushed the corners of his eyes as they pushed onward through the damp bushes.

Dean unwound their arms and took hold of Sams hand, gripping it tight, "You really did save me Sammy, I owe you everything." Sam blushed, but the rawness of his skin masqueraded his reaction. He wasn't quick enough to catch a tear that trickled down his cheek. Dean stopped in his tracks. He stood on higher ground on the hillside and Sam, regardless of his height, looked so strangely vulnerable and small hovering beneath him in comparison.

"Sam?" Dean asked puzzled, watching his brother staring down at his feet shyly.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, blinking back the waterworks and digging his feet into the dirt, "I don't know why I'm so upset about it. I guess I just.. I just couldn't picture not having you here. If you had died in the crash.."

"Enough of that. I'm fine, silly. We survived. We're okay." Dean clawed at the fabric of Sams jacket and they lurched into an embrace. Sam felt drunk on emotion. The haze of tears and dizziness of crying warping his senses. His feet staggered. He swayed away and then crumpled forward into Dean's arms. Deep down his cage of fears unlocked and he started sobbing into Dean's shoulder, Dean patting his back and consoling him.

"Without you Dean... I couldn't survive.." Sam choked, his pent up words coming out raspy and sore.

"Don't get upset, it's okay. I made it. I'm alive," Dean clutched Sams face with his frosty hands, gathering his focus so that their eyes fixed together. The forest blurred and all Sam could see was Dean looking right back at him.

"I don't ever want to be apart. Ever. We're brothers and it's _so_ wrong Dean, but if that crash had killed you I wouldn't have had the chance to tell you how much I love you.." Sam swallowed hard, the lump in his throat bobbing and aching, "And I do.. I love you so much.." The tears kept flowing and Sam began wailing, "So fucking much.."

Dean folded his arms around Sams body, enclosing him in the leather of his jacket. Sam pushed his face into Dean and inhaled the scent. Instantly he felt a sense of tranquility. Dean had a natural way of putting anyone at ease. The nature calmed and the trees swayed in the breeze. In time the tears subsided and Sams bawling dwindled till he was completely relaxed.

"It's okay, baby. I was just starting to think I can't love you any more than I already do and then you go and prove me wrong," Dean groomed his fingers in Sams hair and kissed his forehead, "I love you endlessly Sammy. We are a hell of a lot more than _just_ brothers. We are meant to be."

They stayed weaved together, arms laced around. A slight drizzle of rain misted down over the pair, flurries of water dampening both of their heads. Droplets flicking off Sams shaggy hair. Dean curved his head so that his lips collided with Sams and pleasure bubbled in the pit of Sams stomach, heart fizzing like champagne.

"I want to see the Impala.." Dean said after a long minute of peace. It had been on his mind for days. From what Sam had told him he was aware that the Impala had been reduced to a lump of creaking metal. Yet he had hope that he could salvage it. He had to try anyway. That car was home.

Sam peered up at Dean, his eyes irritated and bloodshot, "Can we go tomorrow Dean? It's starting to rain and I'm cold. I just want to go back."

"Yeah sure, we'll go tomorrow. Let's get back," Dean let a wide smile fill his face, "Plus, you owe me that bath..."

_To be continued..._


End file.
